


Stars and Fire

by Mintaka14



Category: Fushigi Yuugi
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Don't Have to Know Canon, F/M, Humor, Original Character(s), Some Swearing, four beast gods, sexual content in later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 111,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28477908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintaka14/pseuds/Mintaka14
Summary: Miaka's youngest son was born to trouble, but gods and demons are a whole other world of calamity, and when Daisuke is pulled into the Book of Sky and Earth by a call for help, the biggest trouble of all could be Marin, the current Priestess of Suzaku.Marin has always done everything right. She's the one with the perfect grades, the exemplary role model. She's the one who fixes everything, but now she's stuck in a world inside a book and the god she was supposed to summon has failed to appear. She's on the run from demons and Imperial guards, trying to find out what went wrong so she can fix it and save the world, and the last thing she needs complicating her life is the annoyingly, dangerously reckless young man who just fell through the gap between the worlds.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character
Kudos: 2





	1. Opening the Book

**Author's Note:**

> As far as ratings go, if you can handle what happens in the original manga then you should be fine with what happens here. There is not, and will not be, any of the rape and near-rape situations that happen in the original, though.
> 
> Miaka’s youngest son, Daisuke, is my own creation. He and Marin have been stuck in my head for a very long time now, and refused to stand aside until I wrote them out. I’ve tried to stick fairly closely to the original Fushigi Yuugi, but there are some things that I’ve filled in in my own way.  
> By and large, I’ve gone with the Viz English translation manga volumes as my primary point of reference. As in the Viz volumes, I’ve used the Chinese names for the countries and locations. In some cases, I’ve had to make it up out of the information I had. The spelling conventions I’ve used are pinyin without the inflections, which I know means that a lot gets lost in translation.  
> I’ve also chosen to go with given name, family name order for Japanese names rather than the usual Japanese order, and I’ve used family name, personal name for the Chinese names. Mostly because this was the order used in the manga translation.  
> As far as names go, I hope I haven’t made too much of a mess of it. I did get outside help with them, but all mistakes are mine. The way the names are used are closer to Chinese fantasy drama than real-life historical usage, and hopefully it’s not too confusing or jarring to readers.  
> The thing to remember here is that it’s an English language fanfiction of a Japanese manga that draws on Chinese myth and fantasy – things are going to deviate from history and the real world. I hope you enjoy it. Also, if there are tags or warnings that you feel I've missed, please let me know.

**Stars and Fire**

**A Fushigi Yuugi fanfiction**

**By Mintaka14**

# Opening the Book

Falling too fast to prepare for this

Tripping in the world could be dangerous

[Whatever It Takes: Imagine Dragons]

Daisuke Sukunami felt a heat wash through him as he strode past the neon-lit shops, and he missed a step, involuntarily clutching at his chest as a sudden pain pulled at him like a demand. He had just enough time to think _Eighteen is too young to die of a heart attack_ , and then it was gone as suddenly as it had clawed at his heart.

He stood there, shoulders hunched and dark red hair falling over his eyes, one hand still clenched in the t-shirt over his heart, until the lighter he’d been toying with caught his fingers and singed them. It dropped from his hand and bounced into the darkness of an alleyway. For a second, he was distracted by the brief, tiny arc of red-gold light as the lighter tumbled and spat little sparks that glittered and died before it had even hit the ground. Then there was a soft crunch as something crushed it underfoot and shifted.

The figure muttered, “What is this place?” The voice was oddly accented, and all Daisuke could make out in the shadows of the alley was the dark, angular shape of a man about his own height. “There is no god here, just this boy.”

A deeper shadow whispered harshly, “He must be tied to the Priestess, or else we should not have been drawn to this place to find him.”

“Are you _sure_ he is why we’re here?”

A third voice hissed in sharp reprimand, and Daisuke casually eased his hand into the pocket of his black leather jacket, and out again. Any sane person would be running by now; Daisuke’s brother would have said that the inference of that should be obvious. There was a faint snick as he flipped his butterfly knife open.

“Let us end this, so we can go home,” the third one commanded.

When three dark, birdlike figures flew at him out of the alleyway, Daisuke was ready, loose and balanced with his blade in his hand. There was a flurry of robes in the sickly yellow glare of the streetlights and Daisuke faltered for one brief moment as he got his first clear look at his assailants. Their black eyes and beaky noses were almost human, but the feathers sprouting from their arms, which Daisuke had initially mistaken for ragged black coats, were definitely not.

Daisuke jolted into action and spun out of the way as nails like claws raked the air. He brought his knife up to meet the first one in a smooth movement. There was a hiss of pain. His foot snapped into the creature’s side, smashing it against the pole of the streetlight. There was the grinding sound of bones breaking, and another one flew at his face, catching him before he could react. Daisuke hit the ground, rolled, and came up breathing hard. His hand moved swiftly, shooting out to smash into the jaw of the second bird-man, his foot sweeping around to drive it to the ground and it stayed there, unmoving. And the third was above him, claws drawing blood as Daisuke quickly twisted out of the way. He felt blood drip down the side of his face, and ignored it, watching the creature with narrowed eyes.

“Where is He?” the creature demanded savagely. “Where is Suzaku?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Daisuke said, his eyes still fixed on the crow-thing.

With a strange, fluttering sound, it rushed upon him, and Daisuke stood his ground. He faced it, watching. Then his hand shot out, driving the knife deep into its ribs. The thing fell with a sick crack and an explosion of black crow feathers.

Daisuke stood immobile, watching the rain of feathers without any expression in his hazel eyes for a long moment. As the last few black feathers drifted into the gutter, he stared down at the crumpled remains of three crows lying in the street. He prodded one cautiously with the toe of his sneaker, but when a stray breeze ruffled the feathers of its broken wing he pulled back abruptly. Daisuke turned on his heel and broke into a fast walk. He refused to run.

The tiny, dilapidated shops and neon signs that flickered and zapped in the warm summer air gave way to narrower streets and close stone embankments spilling over with creepers and flowering vines. Houses perched over the steep flights of steps as he hurried down them, leaping several steps at a time and swinging around the steel railing. Light shone down from the windows as the shadows outside grew deeper. Without looking, Daisuke turned abruptly in at one of the gates, letting it slam behind him as he hurried up the narrow path and into the front door.

Leaning against the doorframe to pull his shoe off, Daisuke touched the cut at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His hand was shaking a little.

"Ow," he muttered. He kicked the other shoe to one side and closed the door, frowning as he glanced at the other pair of shoes placed precisely together in the entrance. Hikari was home, which meant that dinner would be a series of disapproving lectures from his big brother.

"Daisuke?"

He winced. "I'm home, Mama," he called out, and managed to reach the foot of the stairs before she came to the door of the kitchen. He froze.

"Dinner's nearly ready," she told him brightly, blowing a hunk of toffee-brown hair out of her eyes as she wiped her hands on her apron. "You are planning on eating tonight?"

"Later, Mama." He grinned at her, and winced as the cut puckered. She reached up to touch it, frowning. The frown deepened as she got a good look at the dried blood on his cheek.

"Oh, Daisuke," she said reprovingly. "What kind of trouble have you been getting into this time? I thought you were going to try and stay out of fights now." She absently tidied her son's red hair, straightening his collar, and he pulled a face.

"Mama!"

Her fingers found a feather caught under the collar of his leather jacket, and she pulled it free, staring at it. “Where did this come from? What exactly have you been up to tonight?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine, really.”

He turned back to the stairs, not wanting to deal with the weirdness himself, let alone try to explain it to his mother.

“And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been skipping school again,” his mother called after him. “Dinner in five minutes, young man. Your father will be back soon, and Hikari’s home for the weekend. I want the whole family together tonight.”

He lifted a hand in acknowledgement and kept going. Once inside his room, he shut the door firmly and leaned his back against it, tipping his head to rest on the cool wood.

“ _... Help me ...”_

Daisuke’s head lifted abruptly at the words, startled into a swift glance around his room, but of course he was alone. He stilled, listening for the girl’s voice that had called for help, but there was nothing. No sounds came from the street outside, or the neighbours. He couldn’t even hear his mother clattering around in the kitchen, as she would be before dinner. Everything was unnervingly still. He considered his room more slowly, looking for something out of place.

At first, he didn't notice the book on his desk. Everything else was as it should be, his schoolbag slung in one corner and a trail of clothes scattered across the floor where he’d left them that morning. The poster of the constellations over his bed was as it had been since he was five. The jumble of matchboxes and lighters he’d collected spilled across the shelf beside his bed. A notebook, fallen open on the beginning of a story sketch in his hand, lay half-hidden under his pillow.

And there was a book on his desk that had most definitely not been there that morning. It looked old, and the cloth cover was faded red, with black script trailing down it. The brown leather binding was frayed and cracked in places.

Daisuke stared blankly around the room with a queer sensation of dislocation, shaking his head to try and get rid of the cry for help that seemed to be echoing through his mind. He reached out to touch the book's thick cloth cover.

“ _... Help me! ...”_

He looked up sharply as the words breathed through his skull again, sending chills down the back of his neck. Unthinkingly, he lifted the book and its pages fell open in his hands as he turned.

“ _HELP ME!”_

The girl’s voice screamed in desperation, and the world exploded into fiery red light, blinding him and ripping through him like glass. Daisuke felt himself cry out in fear as the world was torn away from him and flung him into the roaring void. Fire poured around him and through him for an eternity as the flesh was burned from his bones. There was nothing left but pain, searing along his nerves…

And then there was cool stone under his hands.

He crouched there for a moment longer, waiting for the ground to stop feeling like it was rippling under him. The fire faded.

Daisuke blinked, lifting his head slowly as his vision cleared to stare at the red wood and white stone columns around him, and turned his face up to the vaulted rafters above.

"Well, fuck," he said.


	2. In the Temple of the Firebird

# In the Temple of the Firebird

Put on your war paint

[The Phoenix: Fall Out Boy]

Daisuke had a weird sense of disorientation as he felt the cold paving stones under his hand. He crouched in the sideways shadow cast by the eaves of the building behind him as the sun rose on the eastern horizon, and looked up into the unwinking gaze of a red and gold bird statue spreading its wings over the edge of the roof. A broad white marble terrace stretched out in front of him, stained pink by the dawn sky, until it dropped away in steep stone steps to a courtyard and the three scarlet gateways beyond with their dark, curving roofs.

Past the gates, the courtyard rose again in layer upon layer of terraced steps and carved marble balustrades up to the vast, blood-red shape of a temple that loomed over everything. Then the raucous noise of crow calls caught his attention.

The shadow of wings flitted over the wide, white expanse of the courtyard below where he crouched, growing thicker and louder as the crows closed in. More crows were sweeping in, spiralling around someone at the gates.

In the middle of the hurricane of wings, Daisuke could see a splash of brilliant red and gold. A girl about his own age in scarlet silk and gauze robes had her arms thrown up, the gold and jewels in her headdress glittering like fire as she tried to fight off the birds flurrying around her. She backed up against the pillar of the gate, the sweeping, embroidered hem of her gown almost tripping her and her hair unravelling as claws caught in the elaborate braids and coils. Daisuke could see the flash of a red sleeve and a flicker of dark hair as the girl snatched up a broken pole from the ground beside her, swinging it to smack one bird into a tumbling fall, but there were too many to take its place.

The crows in the air were dangerous enough, but as they touched the ground they morphed into more of the gangly, tattered warriors that had attacked Daisuke near his home, all beaky noses and wicked black eyes with deadly blades in their hands. The girl lashed out again with her broken stick, but she didn’t stand a chance against two dozen of them.

“Where is He?” one of the crow-creatures demanded harshly. “Where is the god Suzaku?”

“The ceremony didn’t work!” the girl shouted back. She swung her stick, and the crow-creature danced warily out of reach. “He’s not here!”

There was a hiss, and a crow fell out of the air with a scarlet arrow through its heart. Daisuke’s head snapped around at the sound of a shout. Another arrow whistled through the air, and another one, and more crows dropped. On the other side of the courtyard, past the gate, Daisuke could see the distant figure of an archer standing in the doorway of the tiered temple, coolly fitting another arrow to his bow. Two more figures were running towards the steep steps leading down from the temple, but Daisuke could see that they were too far away. They wouldn’t get to the girl before the crows had done serious damage.

He was rising to his feet, his hand dipping into his pocket and out again to flick his butterfly knife in an arc even as he broke into a run. Daisuke vaulted over the balustrade and fell on the crows from above.

Beaks and feathers fluttered blackly at the edge of his vision, and morphed into lanky creatures with cadaverous, hungry faces. Daisuke ducked blades and striking talons with unthinking ease, and snapped his foot into the side of the nearest creature. He slid a little in a thick puddle of blood and straightened, bringing his blade up to catch another one in the ribs. At the distant edge of the courtyard Daisuke caught a glimpse of broken pennants and overturned braziers still smoking, as if they had only just been abandoned.

The girl screamed as one of the crows raked at her arm from above. It was her. The voice that had called him.

Daisuke spun towards her and struck out at a creature closing in behind him, turning under another grasping claw as he came up. The crow warriors skirted around him, tumbling back over themselves as they circled cautiously. His blade flashed out again and another of the half-human half-crow things collapsed in a shower of feathers. Daisuke came face to face with the girl.

There was fear in those dark eyes and pale, pointed face, and more than a little fire.

Movement flickered to her right and with a wordless cry Daisuke threw himself at her. She tumbled and fell as his shoulder hit her, and his blade shot out, catching the creature across the throat. The world faded around him and focused into the feel of metal on bone, each sharp stab and each high shriek meaning that he'd struck home. The rake of claws across his back and the flicker of pain along his arm was an irritation, nothing more, and hardly a distraction.

He was dimly aware of two more figures joining the fight. The one in the short black tunic moved like shadow through the battle, and Daisuke caught only a brief flash of light on a blade before another crow warrior disintegrated.

The warrior in pale silk robes was sunlight to the shadow, and the air fairly glittered as his sword swept through it. He moved in a deadly pattern that brushed the crows from the sky and turned the ground-borne creatures into nothing more than feathers and blood.

Then Daisuke was too caught up in the battle to pay attention to them.

Until there was nothing left to fight.

Daisuke wiped his knife on his jeans, and casually swung it shut. He looked around to find the girl they had been defending hurrying up the steps of the building he had landed in front of, her torn skirts bundled up in one hand and her dark hair dishevelled and caught in the glittering beads of her headdress.

“You could say thank you, sugar!” he called after her.

“Thank you!” she responded without breaking stride. The sunlight and shadow warriors both followed, their entire attention on the girl. Daisuke frowned, and tailed after them, looking for answers.

The dim light in the building left him blinking after the early sunlight outside, and it took Daisuke a moment to make out the outline of red columns and the ornate altar with the tablets of the ancestors. On each side of the altar were elaborately carved shelves stacked with scrolls and books, and the dark-haired girl was moving rapidly along the shelves, scooping books into her arms. Her elaborately embroidered red and gold robes were trailing on the floor behind her in tatters, but she seemed completely indifferent to their state, or to the long, bleeding scrapes that Daisuke could see on her arms and cheek.

The shadow fighter moved to stand in the doorway, his eyes trained on the sky, but the one who looked like a prince or an elf from a big budget drama strode over to the girl in the red robes.

“Priestess, you should not have risked yourself like that for the Chronicles of Suzaku,” he insisted, reaching to take them from her hands. “We cannot take the books with us.”

She yanked them out of his reach, hugging the books to her chest.

“I need them,” she said fiercely.

The princeling tried again, and the dark-haired girl backpedalled to put the altar and the ancestors between them.

“I need to find out why the ceremony didn’t work, and what I did wrong, otherwise I can’t fix it. It’ll be in the Chronicles. It has to be,” she added a little desperately. The princeling moved slowly as if he didn’t want to startle her until he was on the same side of the altar.

“Marin, it is not like you to be so unreasonable. More tengu will be coming soon, and the oni demons will not be far behind them. We need to go back for the rest of your Seishi warriors, and we need to leave here before the demons arrive.” The princeling’s hands closed gently over hers clasped tightly around the books. “I know you think you need these books, but they are not worth your life.”

In that moment, Daisuke pushed himself forwards.

“Wait,” he drawled, “you went through those crow things, and you called me here, because of some books?”

Everyone swung around to look at him. He was aware of the way the princeling’s hand dropped to the hilt at his side, and the way that the dark-haired girl reached out to touch his wrist, easing it away from the sword.

“What do you mean, I called you?” she demanded.

“I mean one minute I’m at home, then I hear you yelling for help and here I am.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, glancing around the Temple, and turned his gaze back on this unknown girl. “Wherever here is. Care to enlighten me?”

“You’re from Japan?” she asked faintly.

“Arakicho district, Tokyo. I’m getting the feeling that you’re not from around here either.”

“I’m from Ichibancho.”

Daisuke’s eyebrow lifted, and he suppressed a whistle. _Rich girl._

“Zifeng! There are more tengu coming!” the shadow guy in the doorway called urgently to the princeling, who was watching Daisuke and the Priestess with a frown. Dark specks were drawing closer in the brilliant blue sky.

The princeling called Zifeng looked around quickly, then turned back to the girl with her armload of books.

“Marin, you cannot take them all,” he caved in. He reached down and snatched up a long, deep basket that was obviously used for carrying the books, and held it out to her. “Take as many as you can fit in here. The protective wards are still intact, so the archives will be safe until we can return for them, but we have to go now.”

The Priestess he had called Marin said nothing, her jaw tensing, but she began loading books into the basket until it was overflowing. Daisuke noticed that in spite of the haste she was being very careful with how she stashed the volumes.

“Hurry!” the lookout urged, and Marin swung the basket onto her back, staggering a little at the weight.

“Marin!” the princeling interrupted from the doorway, and Marin hurried towards him. She glanced back over her shoulder at Daisuke.

“Well? Are you coming?”

So Daisuke followed as they ran down the steps and bolted for the broad red gates across the courtyard. He could hear the first sounds of the crow demons in the sky behind them now. Through the arch of the central gate, the massive shape of the Temple loomed in front of them, casting its tiered shadow across the paving stones. They hit the first of the steep steps just as the tengu swept overhead.

A black feathered body fell to his right, splayed on the carved stone slab running up the centre of the staircase and blood trickled around the engraved figure of a phoenix, staining the stone dark red. Another bird tumbled out of the sky with an arrow through it. Crows rained down around them as they ran, until they neared the top of the steps and Daisuke could see another group of people in the Temple doorway. The archer he’d seen before was standing, braced, a little to the front, putting arrows into the air with impossible speed, and another girl was running purposefully towards them with a sword in her hands and skirts of rose-coloured silk and gauze swirling around her. Jewels sparked in the flying strands of her smooth, black hair.

“Princess Meixing!” Zifeng shouted at the girl. “Get back!”

The running girl ignored him. As she drew closer, Daisuke could see how very young she was, but she held the sword as if she knew what she was doing with it, and there was a fierce light in her eyes. She swung in behind Marin and turned to face down the approaching crows.

“Meixing!” Zifeng repeated, a note of fear or anger in his voice.

“Get the Priestess to safety,” the young princess cut him off. She spun the sword in a tight curve, her feet braced, just as one of the other members of the group closed in on her other side. There were no weapons in the big man’s hands, but he held them open as if he were about to throw something and there was stern purpose in his tall frame. The plain brown lines of his linen jacket were oddly stark next to the princess’ bright glitter, but they both stood their ground, an odd pair, as the crows rushed down at them.

The princeling stopped himself on whatever he’d been going to say, his expression grim, and wheeled around to sweep Marin and her basket of books through the door of the Temple. Daisuke followed after them, not sure what else to do.

The moment Marin was safely through the doors, Zifeng spun around in a swirl of perfect hair and pale silk robes.

“Fall back!” he ordered, his voice ringing over the clamour of the crows. Daisuke glanced back to see the Princess Meixing sweep another crow out of the air, and another crow morph into that weird, spindly demon form as it touched the ground only to be engulfed by a tide of vines that climbed out of the stones to drag it down and break it. Daisuke’s eyes drifted to the tall young man in the unprepossessing tunic as he lifted his hands again, as if he were drawing something out of the ground. Another fountain of vines erupted into the air, commanded by the sweep of his hands, and the crows scattered in noisy alarm.

“Fall. Back!!” Zifeng shouted again, and they pivoted and broke into a run for the doors. Crows shrieked in the air behind them, closing in. The young princess skidded through the doors with the vine guy close on her heels, and the huge doors were slammed shut.

“The wards will take care of the tengu,” someone said.

Daisuke could hear the birds’ bodies slamming against the wooden doors, but the sounds eventually died away, and outside was silent. Inside, he looked around with interest.

The Temple was lit with the fire burning in the bronze brazier in the middle of the hall, and its light caught on the pattern of the constellations marked out on the marble floor around the brazier, and on the gilt figures painted on the vast red columns. Daisuke’s gaze followed the columns up and up into the shadows far above.

And Daisuke found himself looking up into the bright ruby eyes of the massive firebird towering over him. Light caught on the great claws of the statue and flickered like fire on the golden feathers. Daisuke felt something crawl down the back of his neck. He shivered slightly.

"What is this?" he breathed.

At the sound of his voice, Marin spun around, startled, as if she had forgotten he was there. It was interesting to note how many of the roomful of people were now standing between Marin and him with weapons in their hands. Vine guy and the young princess with the sword were watching him fiercely, and the archer had his bow half-pulled. Daisuke had no doubt that should he make a wrong move, there would be an arrow through his heart before he could blink.

The young man in the shadowy grey tunic from the courtyard was standing just out of Daisuke’s line of sight. When Daisuke turned his head slightly to include him, he was the only one who didn’t seem to have a weapon in his hand but he was holding himself with a balanced tension that Daisuke recognised. He gave Daisuke a brief, enigmatic nod. Daisuke lifted an eyebrow.

"Now, there's a warm welcome," he muttered wryly. He counted seven defenders between him and the Priestess.

"How did he get in here?" a boy with the beads and robes of a monk, and a very un-monk-like scowl, growled. He held a long, rough staff in a fighting stance.

"I walked through the door."

"How did you get through the Suzaku wards? Only the Priestess or the Seishi bound to the god Suzaku should be able to get in here.”

“And that’s another problem I need to solve,” Marin said from behind the wall of protectors, her voice shaking a little. “Along with what he’s doing here in the first place. I really don’t need this right now, on top of everything else.”

“Hey, this is all on you, lady. You’re the one who yelled for help, and here I am. So how the hell do I get back home?”

“Show some respect when you speak to the Priestess of Suzaku,” the monk boy snapped.

“I’ll respect Her Worshipfulness plenty when she sends me back where I came from.”

“Does this really look like the time to be arguing about this?” she shouted at him.

“We do not have time for this,” Zifeng interrupted decisively. “There will be another flock of tengu arriving soon, once they realise that the last cohort failed, and while we are safe in here behind Suzaku’s wards we cannot remain here forever. We have to take the Priestess to safety.”

“Yes, but where?” Meixing asked.

“Somewhere where I can work out what went wrong with the Summoning Ceremony,” Marin said. She shot Daisuke a stricken look as she hefted the basket of books a little higher on her shoulder, revealing another deep gouge on the side of her neck.

“And somewhere I can tend to those crow scratches before they turn septic,” a young woman said from the other side of the Temple. She stepped briskly towards them, the stiff white brocade of her gown rustling as it brushed against the stone floor, and reached to tilt Marin’s chin with a practised efficiency. Her lips tightened slightly as she inspected the bloody marks.

“Can it wait a little longer, Xuelian?” Zifeng asked her. “If there is no imminent threat to the Priestess’ health then we need to leave.”

“It will have to,” the young woman said reluctantly. “I don’t like the look of those wounds, but Marin isn’t in immediate danger.”

Daisuke shot a look at the dark-haired Priestess, but she said nothing. Her gaze had dropped to the ground, and in the flickering light it looked like her already pale face was growing paler.

“Then we move now,” the princeling was saying, and he turned to the doors. “Stay close, and keep the Priestess under cover.”

“Even him?” the young monk asked, jerking his head towards Daisuke.

“We are not leaving him behind,” Marin spoke up, lifting her head.

“Daisuke,” Daisuke said casually.

“What?”

“My name is Daisuke.”

“Marin Hoshimiya,” she told him vaguely, her attention stil focused on the princeling. “Can we finish the introductions when we’re not in mortal danger?”

“Yes, Your Worshipfulness,” Daisuke said mockingly, and followed the source of his current predicament out of the doors.

“We will make for the Zhuque Gate,” Zifeng decided, and Daisuke noted the way his eyes were already scanning the horizon, but the brightening dawn sky remained clear with no specks of black to mar it. The group moved across the broad terrace towards the steps, and Daisuke found himself falling in beside the Priestess.

The chaos out here was as bad as the northern doors had been. There was a litter of pennants and musical instruments everywhere, as if people in the middle of a celebration had abandoned them and run. Crows lay in pitiful little heaps of feather and bone and broken wings, but some of the bodies were human, with shattered swords in their hands. A woman lay slumped under a broken piece of balustrade, her eyes still blankly open under the deep red claw marks scored across her face.

“Oh, gods, there were still people here when it started,” Daisuke heard the Marin’s horrified whisper, and he glanced over at her. The Priestess’ face was paper white beside him, her attention fixed on the unmoving mounds.

“So what’s a classy girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked, and she shot a distracted look in his direction, her attention pulled away from the bloody chaos, as he’d intended. “Where is this, anyway? Ancient China? Have we travelled back in time?”

“Not exactly.”

“What are those things, anyway?” he asked curiously. He nudged one limp little heap with the toe of his shoe as he passed, and it shed a few feathers. A black beak knocked against the stones as he rolled it over. They were definitely crows.

“Tengu,” Marin said shortly. “Crow demons. They live for mischief and destruction, and one’s a nuisance but in a flock like that they’re deadly. You should be dead now, fighting them with just that little knife of yours.”

“Hey, I’m tougher than I look,” he protested. She shot him a flat look.

“Are you as crazy as you looked, fighting a flock of tengu with a teeny tiny knife?”

“So, tengu,” Daisuke deflected, not sure he liked the direction things were going, but at least she had a bit of colour back in her face now, and she didn’t look like she was going to throw up anymore. He glanced around him. “That doesn’t sound like they should fit in here. It doesn’t sound very Chinese to me.”

“No, they’re not. But this isn’t exactly China.”

“Well, I don’t know where this is,” he said in some exasperation. “I just know it’s not home, and it’s not Japan, and frankly I don’t care where we are as long as I get home soon.”

“For whatever I did that dragged you here, I’m sorry, okay?” she snapped back. “I really didn’t mean to pull anyone else into this mess. I’ve been fasting for three days now for that damn ceremony, and I’m tired, and in case you haven’t noticed we’re in the middle of a crisis here. As soon as I have a moment to think straight I will work out how I brought you here and I will send you home, because the gods above know that I really don’t want to spend another minute dealing with you on top of everything else.”

She broke off with an angry gasp as the group passed under another row of elaborate gates carved and painted with fantastical creatures. Daisuke looked up into the curious eyes of yet another red and gold bird staring down at him with its wings outspread, and he scowled up at it.

Beyond the gates, the broad street in front of them boiled with chaos. Everyone seemed to by scrambling to get out of the way, the street choked with carts and overturned baskets. The air was loud with the noise of shouting, braying animals, and crying children. Some of the shops closest to the Temple had their awnings pulled down and an abandoned air about them, and scattered fruit rolled in the street to be trampled underfoot. The battle in the Temple grounds had clearly spilled into the streets beyond as people had escaped from the tengu attack.

Daisuke glanced to the right, where the Temple street opened up into the main street. He could see helmets moving towards them against the flow of the crowd, their red plumes and tassels bobbing as they ran.

“Not that way,” Meixing insisted behind him. “I’m not risking going back to the palace.”

In the distance, Daisuke heard the sonorous boom of a massive drum, and a deep bell began to toll over the city. Zifeng came to a stop, holding up a hand. For a brief moment, the scrambling crowd around them seemed to freeze, carters and scholars and soldiers with their heads all turned towards the south as the bell continued to toll and the drum thundered its cryptic message.

Zifeng’s serene face betrayed a crease of tension as he exchanged a look with the shadow guy.

“The city is under attack,” Zifeng said quietly. “Which means that the gates will be closing, and our retreat is restricted. The Imperial Guards will be searching for us, or rather for the Priestess and the Princess.”

“I’m not going back there,” Meixing repeated fiercely. “And you need me if we’re going to try to summon Suzaku again.”

“We don’t have much time,” the shadow guy said to Zifeng. “The tengu will regroup and return soon. And the southern gates are no longer an option, if I’m reading the drum code right. That’s where the attack is coming from.”

“We make for the harbour,” Zifeng decided. “It will take us an hour or so to reach there, but that is our best chance, and my family has a ship berthed there.”

He turned to the rest of the group. “We will have to split up. Tian Zhen, take the Princess and Xuelian with you. Do you know the way to the western docks? Keep heading downhill, and look for the ship with the vermilion bird on the hull when you get there. Xuelian can get you past any checkpoints. Do not use your power unless you have no other choice, Tian Zhen. We do not want to draw attention if we can avoid it. And Meixing, no heroics.”

He held the young girl’s gaze for a long moment until she gave a reluctant nod.

“Zhu Yi,” Zifeng turned to the archer. “You and Zhang Yong should skirt around the inner walls until you get to the Liang Gate. That will be one of the last to close.”

He pivoted to the shadow warrior. “Jing Yun…”

“I’m with the Priestess,” Jing Yun said pleasantly, his hands tucked casually in his belt. “Your powers are formidable, but you need to keep her out of sight of the tengu and the guards, and you’ll need my… skills.”

“You can get us past the outer gates?”

“I have a plan.”

“Does it involve your Suzaku-given talents?”

“We might need to save that for emergencies,” Jing Yun said, and Zifeng nodded.

As the others divided up and melted into the crowd, leaving Zifeng and Jing Yun with Marin, Daisuke caught the speculative look that Zifeng gave him. Marin must have seen it too.

“He’s with me,” she told him firmly.

“Am I?” Daisuke asked drily.

“What’s your alternative?” she shot back.

Daisuke glanced around at the street and the buildings and world that looked like it was straight out of ancient China. The bell still rang its sonorous warning of a city under attack, and the drums rumbled over the city. He had no idea where he was, or how to get home. He turned back to the girl who had somehow brought him here.

“You have a point,” he conceded.

They set off again, and Daisuke lost track of the houses and shops they passed. He heard someone calling out to offer fortunes told and futures revealed, and a sharp voice cutting over the noise to announce the freshest fish in the city. Men in faded livery jogged past carrying swaying sedan chairs. At the edge of the road, a group of children were kicking a leather ball between them. The pandemonium of the tengu didn’t seem to have spread this far from the Temple, and the warning drums hadn’t stirred panic yet in spite of the black specks circling the sky above them. A few people turned towards the sound, but there was no urgency in their faces yet

Jing Yun led them through the crowds, past the noisy baskets full of ducks and the poles covered in dried eels, dodging close to the teetering towers of ceramics and the bright piles of cloth.

Daisuke didn’t realise what he was up to until he stopped in front of a small brick building that had seen better days. The sign hanging over the doorway looked as though it had been stripped of all but the barest hints of blue and gold.

“This is your plan?!” Zifeng said in an outraged half-whisper. “To break into a guard house and steal armour?”

“Seems like a good plan to me,” Daisuke put in, and Zifeng turned a frigid stare on him.

“Can you think of a better way to stay out of sight and get through the outer gates?” Jing Yun muttered, his attention on the padlock on the door. Daisuke raised an eyebrow as Jing Yun slipped a thin piece of metal out of his sleeve and fitted it into the lock.

“You have got to teach me how to do that,” he said enviously. Jing Yun looked up with a grin.

And the door swung open.

“What’s more important here?” Jing Yun asked Zifeng reasonably. “Playing by the rules, or keeping our Priestess safe? The city guards are looking for us, and the tengu are still hunting, and it seems like a bad idea to be arguing about this in the middle of the street.”

“Can we decide quickly what we’re going to do, because the longer we stand here the more chance there is that we’ll be caught,” Marin interjected, and Zifeng’s frozen look melted a little.

“Your safety is paramount,” he conceded.

Jing Yun stepped inside without waiting for Zifeng’s approval. Daisuke was stopped as Zifeng blocked him, his eyes grim in his perfect face. There was a challenge in that look.

Zifeng said darkly, “Perhaps we should leave him here.” Marin turned on him.

“How many times do I have to say it?” she snarled. “Somehow I brought Daisuke here, and he’s a part of all of this. He’s my responsibility, so until I work out what’s going on and how to make it right and send him back to Tokyo, and how to save the whole damn world, then he’s coming with us. So stop trying to thwart me, Zifeng!”

Zifeng had backed up a startled step.

“Marin, this is not like you,” he said, and Marin’s face crumpled with guilt and fatigue. She buried her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice sounding exhausted and on the verge of tears. “I’m really sorry. I’m just… so tired, and the world keeps spinning around me, and I screwed up the ceremony somehow and now there are tengu and demons and people dying and I don’t know how to fix it!” she wailed softly.

Daisuke shoved his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to comfort her. He didn’t think that her two protectors would appreciate a dangerous stranger touching their Priestess. She lifted her face from her hands, a lost look in her eyes as she turned to Daisuke.

“I’ll fix this. I will fix this and get you home,” she said with the weight of the world in her voice.

“Then let’s get you somewhere safe so we can work it all out and get home again,” Daisuke told her gently, and held the watch house door open for her. She passed inside, and as Daisuke moved to follow her he found his path blocked again by Zifeng, whose perfect features were rigid with fury.

“You heard the lady,” Daisuke said cheerfully. “I’m with her.”

And he pushed past Zifeng into the watch house.


	3. Warning Drums

# Warning Drums

Black vultures circling the sky

Feels like the end of the world

But it’s only the beginning

[Black Vultures: Halestorm]

The tension in the dark and cramped watch house was palpable, but Marin didn’t have the energy to deal with it. She concentrated instead on the task of pulling the remaining gold pins from her hair and untangling the beaded headdress.

The ruby eye of the firebird winked at her from the head of one delicately wrought pin as she dropped it onto a nearby shelf. She was going to be leaving a fortune in gold and jewels here; hopefully it would make up for the armour they would be taking.

With some difficulty, she persuaded her tired arms to lift a coat of mail over her head, and it covered her down to the shins. Beyond that, her feet were buried in the golden firebirds and red silk of her ceremonial robes.

“Can I have your knife?” she asked Daisuke.

“What?”

“Your teeny tiny knife,” she repeated with exaggerated patience, and he handed it to her. She stabbed the point through the fabric and started sawing at the edge of her robe.

After a few minutes, there was a nasty ripping sound as Marin tore a swathe of silk off the bottom of her gown, leaving a ragged mess. She looked down critically. Most of the brilliant red and gold was hidden by the armour now. Her fantastically embroidered slippers were still a bit of a giveaway, in spite of the streaks of mud and blood that dimmed the gilt threads, but it would have to do.

“At least I can walk without tripping now,” she muttered, rolling the torn red and gold silk into a rough bundle which she shoved onto the shelf beside the headdress. Jing Yun handed her a leather thong which she used to tie back her hair. She tucked it under a helmet that was a little too big for her.

Zifeng was regarding a coat of mountain link armour with fastidious distaste.

“If any of my family’s troops let their equipment get into this condition, our captain would have them flogged,” he said darkly. Marin shot him a look that Zifeng didn’t see as he reluctantly shrugged out of his long silk outer robe. Zifeng carefully folded the robe and slid the coat of mail over his equally pristine tunic and trousers. He belted his own sword over the leather and cloth stomach guard.

“It’ll have to do,” Jing Yun said finally, shrugging his heavy shoulder pauldrons into place. He looked at Marin. “Just make sure you stay back as much as possible, Marin. Those ceremonial robes of yours are a bit obvious, and if anyone looks too closely they’re going to realise that you’re a girl, but we just have to get you as far as the ship. Do you really have to take that basket with you?” he added plaintively as Marin reached for the basket of books.

She frowned at him. “I’m not leaving the books behind.” But Daisuke hefted the basket before she could get to them.

“Jeez, lady, could these be any heavier?” he complained.

“Those chronicles are the only thing I can think of that might get us home again.” She tried to grab the basket back, but he swung it out of reach over his shoulder.

“Fine, I’ve got them,” he said, and gave her a grin. “You owe me.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful?” she asked sarcastically, and his grin grew wider. When she looked up, Zifeng was watching them with an impassive face. He turned away without saying anything.

The raucous sound of crows suddenly broke through the noise of the street and the steady thunder of the warning drums that were still rumbling through the air.

“Time to go,” Zifeng said grimly.

The four of them jogged briskly through the streets, taking a more direct route now, and Marin had to work hard on not turning to look up at the sky that was filling high above with dark wings and ear-shattering noise. Most of the traffic in the street ahead of them had cleared, and there was the slam and thump of shopkeepers pulling down their umbrellas and awnings. A man hurried past them, his back hunched under the pole he carried balancing two wildly swinging baskets full of greens, but no one stopped them or paused to give them a second glance.

Daisuke fell into step beside her.

“Interesting company you’re hanging out with,” he said. “An Imperial Princess, a lady doctor, a crack-shot archer, a guy who can magic combat plants, an angry trainee monk.” He nodded at Zifeng in front of them. “A lord?”

“Zhao Zifeng is second cousin to the emperor, and son and heir of the Marquis Zhao,” Marin told him. Zifeng ignored them.

“And, what, an assassin?” Daisuke asked teasingly. Jing Yun glanced back over his shoulder.

“I have never accepted payment for killing anyone in my life,” he said mildly, and Daisuke grinned.

“Now, that’s a tricky answer. So, how did you all wind up together?” He turned back to Marin. “Does the Priestess get a complete Pokémon set or something?”

“Are you trying to be insulting?”

“Nope, just comes naturally.”

“Zifeng, Jing Yun and the others are the Suzaku Seishi, the seven warriors of the constellations, chosen by the god to help the Priestess summon Suzaku,” she told him a little coldly. “Every one of them has been willing to put their lives on the line for this.”

He was looking at her with that grin that was starting to make her want to hit him. “Looks like I hit a nerve.”

Marin turned her eyes firmly to the front, fixing them on Zifeng’s armoured back, and ignored him. The sun was rising higher in the sky now, and it felt like they had been walking through the streets of the city forever. Far above, Marin could still hear the tengu calling to each other, and she pressed a hand to her face as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

“How did you get here?” she asked Daisuke eventually, trying to distract herself. “Before you heard my voice, what happened?”

“Seriously?” Daisuke asked incredulously.

“Humour me,” she said flatly. “I’m going to guess you found a book.”

She saw his expression change.

“That old book on my desk?”

“It was on your desk?” It was her turn to feel odd. “That’s where you found it?”

“Where were you expecting?” he asked curiously, and she took a deep breath, trying not to pass out.

“That book is The Book of the Four Gods Sky and Earth, and the gateway to this world. This,” she gestured to take in everything around them, “is the Universe of the Four Gods, where the gods of the four cardinal points are real. Welcome to Hongnan, the southern country of the phoenix god, Suzaku.”

“So what are you doing here? What’s your role in all this?”

“Suzaku chose me to find the book and come here to act as His Priestess,” she said drily. “That’s what happens when disaster strikes in the Universe of the Four Gods, when there’s war or famine, or natural disasters. One of the four gods calls a girl from our world to come here and make three wishes that will restore the balance again.”

“So… no pressure.”

“Failure is not an option,” Marin muttered - her mother’s favourite mantra - and Daisuke looked at her curiously.

“Failure is always an option. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“The world will end,” she said, and he laughed as if she had made a joke. His eyebrows lifted when she didn’t respond.

“You were serious?”

“The Imperial army has been fighting a losing battle with the hordes of oni that invaded Hongnan a few months ago, the sky over Rongyao is filling up with tengu, and now there’s legion of monsters knocking on the city gates as we speak, wanting to raze everything to the ground, and there’s no sign of the god that was supposed to stop it, so yes, I was serious.”

Zifeng stopped abruptly, holding up a hand for their attention, and Marin staggered to a halt behind him. In front of them, the huge stone walls of the city loomed over the streets, and above the walls towered the monolithic mass of the Gatehouse. It dwarfed the buildings around it as its grey brick walls rose like a cliff up to the parapet far above, where tiny, indistinct armed guards ran back and forth. The Watchhouse rose still further over the parapet in layers of dark, curved rooves that looked out over the countryside beyond, and Marin gave a slight shiver. No matter how many times she saw it, she felt intimidated by the gatehouse, which she supposed was rather the point of it.

Her gaze dropped to the massive arch that tunnelled through the thick barrier of the Gatehouse, and the chaos of people and armoured guards milling around it. The imposing red wooden gates at the far end of that tunnel were very firmly shut.

Jing Yun strode forward, reaching into the tunic under his armour as four guards hurried to block their passage.

“Imperial message for the Harbourmaster!” he called out importantly. “Make way for the Imperial message!”

“Halt and present your orders,” the foremost guard demanded, and Jing Yun drew a sheaf of papers out, thrusting them at the approaching guards. Marin heard Zifeng swear softly as he caught a glimpse of the seal on the top document, and she raised her eyebrows a little at the profanity. They were all reacting out of character under the stress of the day.

“Where under the heavens did you get those from,” she heard him mutter under his breath to Jing Yun, who flashed a quick grin in response.

“I told you you’d need my skills,” he whispered back.

Zifeng stepped forward, every inch the commanding officer, and Marin tried to bite back a faint smile. Zifeng at his most imperious was always a thing to behold.

“You have our authorisation,” he snapped. “Is there any further need to detain us?”

The guard thrust the papers back at Jing Yun.

“Open the gate!” he cried, and there was a deep groan as the gates began to open. With a wave, he ushered them through, and Marin followed Zifeng and Jing Yun, fighting the urge to look back as the tunnel under the Gatehouse swallowed them. She tried to fix her expression into military sternness, and hoped that she didn’t look as wobbly on her feet as she felt.

The gates were within reach now, and they moved forward at a steady stride. Four more guards stood stiffly at attention, outlined against the bright sky beyond, and Marin could make out a further cohort just past the gates watching the road down to the harbour. She was suddenly very aware of the ragged red hem of her gown under her coat of mail, and the embroidered slippers on her feet. Surreptitiously, she edged closer to Zifeng, trying to put him between herself and the watchful eyes of the guards ahead.

They were closer now, then past the gates.

And she heard someone call out behind them, “Oi! What’s in the basket?”

They didn’t stop.

“Halt!” A guard at the edge of the road swung his spear down to block their path, and reached for the basket on Daisuke’s back. “Where are you taking those? The books and scrolls never leave the Palace or the Temple.”

As his hand landed on the books, Marin swung around and kicked the guard without thinking, and his hand dropped from the basket. That was also when he looked down and saw her slippers, saw the red silk, looked up and into her face under the oversized helmet. And tried to grab her. Clearly orders from the Imperial Palace had already reached the gates after the debacle at the Temple.

Zifeng’s sword was out of its scabbard and pressed to the man’s throat before the guard did more than brush her sleeve.

“Marin, move!” he snapped, backing up and forcing her to move towards the road beyond. Jing Yun grabbed her and broke into a run as the shout went up from the guards on the gate who had finally realised what was going on.

“The Priestess!” someone yelled. “Stop her! It’s the Priestess!”

She ran harder, pulled along by Jing Yun as her feet tripped over themselves and skidded a little on the uneven stones, and looked back over her shoulder just long enough to see Daisuke pounding the road close behind her, and Zifeng closing the distance with a cohort of City Guards behind him.

Somewhere up above, a crow shrieked, and there was a cacophony of answering calls. The tengu had seen them, and black wings swept closer through the blue sky.

“Jing Yun!” Zifeng shouted. “Now would be time!”

Jing Yun took a deep breath, his muscles tensing.

And disappeared.

Marin was still gripping his hand. She didn’t even bother to check and see if she was still visible as she felt a brief chill ripple through her. Daisuke had stumbled in shock when she and Jing Yun had vanished, and Marin reached back to grab his hand.

Daisuke dissolved from view.

Jing Yun pivoted them out of the way of the approaching guards, and as Zifeng raced past Jing Yun must have snagged him with his other hand and pulled him aside. The guards stumbled to a halt, milling around in disorder as the four people they were chasing all vanished.

The four of them backed away carefully, trying to stay silent as the cohort of guards fumbled, stabbing at the air with their spears and looking around fearfully. When the dark shadow of crows flitted over them and the noise of the tengu deafened the air, the men broke and ran for the city gates, leaving Marin and her warriors in frozen dread until the crows spun away again in search of their prey.

“Have they gone yet?” Jing Yun’s voice come out of nowhere. “I can’t keep this up for long.”

“Another useful skill,” Marin heard Daisuke say enviously, and Jing Yun chuckled.

“It’s come in handy,” the disembodied voice said. “Now, time to keep quiet and keep up, otherwise we’re tengu-bait.”

Beyond the walls of the city they hurried down the paved road running down the hillside to the harbour. Now that the city was under siege and the gates were closed, the last of the chaos was concentrated around the customs gates at the docks. It was choked with carts and wagons and baskets and people fighting to get through to the docks as the officials turned them away and tried to seal the harbour. Guards blocked the gateway, their spears crossed, as people pushed and shouted and argued.

Marin gripped Jing Yun’s hand as they wove slowly and carefully towards the gate, and felt Daisuke’s warm hand tighten around hers. A porter with a handcart bumped into her, and looked around in confusion.

“Wait for it,” she heard Jing Yun mutter under his breath to them. The noise of the crowd covered any sound they made. “Soon things will get messy when the crowd realises that they’re really not getting through. That’ll be the distraction we need.”

In that moment, a carter raised his voice, waving a sheaf of official looking papers at the guards as he grew angrier and demanded to be allowed through. More voices were raised, complaining about deliveries to the ships, goods waiting to be collected, cargoes spoiling. The crowd pushed forward against the crossed spears, and the guards shoved back as the customs officials hurriedly gathered their documents and writing tools and retreated to safety behind the pillars. The guards pushed forward more forcefully, and in the narrow gap created by the distraction Jing Yun moved forward, drawing the three with him. They slipped under the thick red columns of the dock gates.

The moment they were clear, Jing Yun drew them all into the cover of bales piled high on the wooden walkway, and he dropped his arms. The air shivered, and Marin held up a shaky hand, relieved to be able to see herself again.

Jing Yun gave a gasp and crumpled, his knees giving way, and Zifeng stepped up to catch him before he could hit the ground. Jing Yun was breathing hard, and his face was grey, and Marin ducked under his arm on the other side, supporting his weight. She and Zifeng half-carried and half dragged him between them, and Daisuke followed as they hurried along the busy dockside, dodging sailors and merchants and ignoring the odd curious glance. Towards the end of the board pier, Marin caught a glimpse of Meixing leaning out over the bulwark railing of a ship, waving at them, with Tian Zhen standing behind her, his arms folded.

The ship dwarfed the fishing junks around it, and there was a sleek elegance and sense of wealth about it that the larger trading ships lacked. Huge red sails fanned out smoothly above the deck, and swung ponderously to strain with the wind as the shouts of crew drifted down to them and the waves slapped gently against the timbers.

They passed under the watchful gaze of the vermillion bird painted on the hull, and Zifeng took the full weight of Jing Yun to manoeuvre him up the narrow wooden stairs leading up the side of the ship.

Marin followed more carefully as she picked her way up the uneven slope. She staggered with exhaustion and a sudden wave of dizziness, and felt Daisuke catch at her before she could tumble off the steep steps.

The moment she was on board, Zifeng turned to the captain

“Get us out into deep water, now. The tengu will not follow us there,” he ordered. The captain bowed briefly, and bellowed commands at his sailors. As the crew hauled in the ropes and cast off, Marin braced herself as the deck swayed under her feet and the ship slid slowly out of the harbour.

She turned to deal with her next problem.

In his blood-stained jeans and coat of mail, with that shock of unusual red hair turned to fire in the sunlight, Daisuke could not have looked more incongruous as he shrugged the basket of books from his shoulder and held it out to her.

“So we’ve all risked our lives for your book collection here. Where do you want me to put them?”

“Don’t you dare just dump them on the deck,” she told Daisuke, and fainted.


	4. Red Sails

# Red Sails

Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me

Will the stars align?

Will heaven step in? Will it save us from our sin? Will it?

[Natural: Imagine Dragons]

When Marin opened her eyes again, she found herself staring up into the timbers of a cabin ceiling, with a silk and lacquered wood lantern swaying gently from the beam above her.

She closed her eyes, pressing her hands to her face, and made a faint moan of dismay.

“Argh! How humiliating,” she muttered, and started to sit up, only to be gently pushed back by Xuelian’s firm hand.

“Take it slowly,” Xuelian recommended. “You don’t want to make yourself dizzy by sitting up too quickly. You had us worried there for a moment.”

“I have to go get the Chronicles,” Marin said, sitting up a little more slowly, and swinging her feet over the edge of the narrow bunk she’d been lying on.

“You have to have something to eat and a rest,” Xuelian vetoed. She pointed to a table where Marin could see steamed buns waiting, and a bowl of fish stew that smelled heavily of spices and rice wine. There was a plate of thin melon slices next to it. Meixing was curled up on a small couch next to the table, nibbling on one of the buns, and Marin realised just how ravenous she was, but her head spun a little as she tried to stand up.

As she staggered, Meixing shifted abruptly as if ready to leap up from the couch to grab her, but Marin sat down again with a thump.

“Eat.” Xuelian handed her the fish stew. “The books can wait until I’ve seen to those scratches of yours. You can’t go out there like that, anyway,” she added, nodding at Marin’s torn gown and the shredded silk gauze undergarment. “Meixing, I need you to play seamstress while I look after Marin’s injuries.”

The princess sighed, but uncoiled herself from the couch and helped Marin out of the heavily-embroidered red gown.

Xuelian examined her face closely, frowning slightly.

“This is not your fault,” she said firmly, divining the reason for the look in Marin’s eyes. She nodded at the bowl in Marin’s hand. “Eat, and then you’ll feel much better.”

“Then whose fault is it?” Marin said desperately. “What else am I doing here, if not to summon Suzaku and fix things? And I’m failing spectacularly on both counts.”

“You take your sense of responsibility a little too far sometimes,” Xuelian said, rummaging through her medical case. “You did not cause the ceremony to fail.”

“How can you be sure? We don’t know what happened.”

“But you’ll find out.” Xuelian tipped one of the tiny ceramic jars into her bowl, and reached for another one, measuring out a careful pinch of the powder in it. “If anyone can work it out, it’s you.”

Xuelian ground the powders together with careful, unhurried movements, and dribbled a little water into it until she had a paste.

“Hold still. This may sting.”

She touched the mixture to the gouge marks on Marin’s neck, and Marin sucked in a hiss of pain.

“There must have been other times when the ceremony didn’t summon the god,” Xuelian said, and made a sound of annoyance when Marin jerked upright.

“Xuelian! You’re a genius. There was something in the Suzaku Scroll, I’m sure of it.” Marin started to her feet, only to be pushed down again by Xuelian’s firm hand.

“And it will still be there after I’ve finished treating you, and after Meixing has finished with the mending. You can’t go charging out there dressed like that,” Xuelian pointed out, gesturing at the shredded and completely transparent undergarment that Marin was still wearing.

“Although I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind,” she teased slyly, and Marin blushed, subsiding again. Marin reached for a slice of melon.

“So our unexpected newcomer is from your world,” Xuelian said, turning her attention to the deep scratches on Marin’s arm. “Interesting.”

“Troubling,” Marin amended around a mouthful of melon.

“I think he’s gorgeous,” Meixing said dreamily. “And I’ve never met anyone with hair that colour before.”

Xuelian dabbed more of the mixture on Marin’s arm.

“Has there ever been a case in any of the records of a man from the other world coming here?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Marin frowned, trying to think back. “I don’t think I’ve come across any.” She heaved another big sigh. “And he’s yet another problem I need to fix.”

“I wouldn’t mind solving that problem,” Meixing offered, shaking out the red gown and eyeing it critically. “The hem is still a mess, but I’ve fixed the worst of it.”

“Nicely done, Meixing,” Xuelian said approvingly, and Meixing made a face.

“I may not like it, but I can sew and embroider. Her Imperial Majesty expects no less of her daughters.”

They both waited patiently while Marin quickly finished eating and put her gown back on, and Marin pretended that she didn’t hear Xuelian’s sigh of professional disapproval when she headed for the door. She had a problem to research, and rest could wait.

~~~~~

When Marin fainted, Zifeng caught the Priestess as she crumpled. He scooped her into his arms and whisked her away to one of the cabins before Daisuke or anyone else could react. There was nothing for Daisuke to do but wait and join the cluster of companions who had retreated to the stern of the ship.

He made his way around the coils of rope and barrels, and the row of tiny wooden lifeboats lashed to the bulwark, and dodged the sailors scurrying over the deck. Jing Yun gave him a nod of acknowledgement, but Zhu Yi’s eyes were fixed on the sky as Daisuke came to stand beside them. Daisuke followed his gaze, trying to make out what he was looking at, but all he could see was a handful of black specks marring the clear blue sky.

“Tengu,” Zhu Yi said distractedly. “The wingspan is a little wider, and crows wouldn’t have been able to follow us out this far.”

Daisuke squinted, but he was unable to make out any detail. Zhu Yi fingered the shaft of an arrow over his shoulder absently, as if tempted to put one through the wheeling flock in the distance, but his hand dropped away, and then the specks whirled and fell behind them in the distance.

“I’ve never been on the water before,” Jing Yun said, leaning against the ship’s bulwark. “Life is just full of interesting new things today. You come from Marin’s world? You don’t look like a priestess.”

Daisuke’s eyebrow lifted at that. “Should I be?”

“I’ve never heard of anyone except a priestess coming here from the other world,” Jing Yun said.

“How do we know he really does come from Marin’s world?” the young monk – Zhang Yong - said from the shadow of the cookhouse, where he’d been leaning against the wall. He came closer, looking Daisuke up and down, and Daisuke met the hostile inspection with a sharp amusement that only made the boy’s frown darker.

The big man who had wielded the combat plants in the temple said, “Zhang Yong,” in quiet rebuke, and the boy subsided.

The cabin door opened, and Zifeng emerged, but he didn’t join them. He climbed to the captain’s deck above, and stood contemplating the horizon, his white robes and dark hair billowing around him in the breeze. Daisuke watched the young lord, frowning slightly.

“What’s the story there?” he asked Jing Yun casually. “Are they a couple?”

“The Priestess and her Destined Warrior? The stories of Suzaku’s Priestess and the warrior Tamahome are legendary in this world. Those two,” Jing Yun dipped his chin in Zifeng’s direction, “have been written in the stars since the beginning of time.”

Daisuke gave a snort of derision. “Destined love? Seriously?”

“Their love is the source of Suzaku’s power. The god soars on the flames of their passion.” Jing Yun sounded as though he was reciting something he’d heard too many times to count, but there was a touch of dryness in his voice.

“This god of yours has really got you all wrapped around his finger, hasn’t he?” Daisuke said, just as drily. “Your Priestess in there didn’t seem like the kind to let a bird with delusions of grandeur play matchmaker for her.”

“Yeah, being matched up with a handsome and charming heir to an ancient marquisate… girls just hate that. “

“It sounds like you’re in love with him yourself,” Daisuke said.

“He’s not my type,” Jing Yun told him, and it almost looked like he flushed for a moment, his eyes flickering towards the stern of the ship where Zhu Yi was still watching the sky. “And Zifeng is devoted to the Priestess.”

“So don’t even look at the Priestess,” Zhang Yong muttered. “She’d never be interested in _you_.”

“I’m not looking at anything other than how to get back home again, so you really don’t have to worry about your precious Priestess,” he told the boy.

Anything Zhang Yong might have said was cut short as the ship plunged into the breaking waves beyond the harbour, and Daisuke’s stomach plunged with it. The wash of nausea disappeared as the wind hit his face, and he found himself grinning as the ship rose and fell, bracing his feet and leaning into the exhilarating motion.

The rough water was behind them and the steep movement of the ship had settled by the time the cabin door opened at the other end of the ship, and Marin emerged. Daisuke pushed away from the bulwark, dodging around the Priestess’ companions to fall in beside her.

“Look, it’s been fun, sugar, but I’d appreciate it if you could send me home now.”

Marin sighed. “I would if I knew how. Where did you put those books? You didn’t let them get wet, did you?”

Daisuke hauled the basket out from under the tarpaulin where he’d put them for safekeeping, and she headed back to the cabin with them.

“You do realise I’m missing out on my mother’s famous chicken curry here?”

Marin came to an abrupt stop and looked back at him over her shoulder.

“What day was it when you found the book?” she asked him.

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes impatiently. “The day,” she repeated with exaggerated care. “What. Date. Was. It?”

“The twenty-first of June.”

Marin drew in a breath and blew it out again. “It’s still the same day there. What time was it?”

“I don’t know, about eight at night? It was getting dark, but not dinner time yet.”

She dipped her head. “Okay,” she said to herself, “It’s okay. The library hasn’t even closed yet, then.”

“Something else you’re stressing about?” he asked.

“Hasn’t it occurred to you yet that people might be missing you back at home? It was five o’clock on the twenty-first when I found the book. I’ve been in this world for four months, and I have no idea how much longer it’s going to be there before I get home or what the fallout is going to be if I’m missing for much longer. Knowing my mother, facing demons and gods here is the safer choice.”

Daisuke gave her a startled look. “Four months? Then how long -”

“I have no idea,” Marin said. “Here it’s been four months, there I’ve been gone a few hours apparently. I’ve been trying to calculate the time correlation between the worlds on the basis of the last priestess’ accounts of when she appeared and disappeared here, and how long she said she was back in our world, but if it’s been three hours there since I fell into the book then that blows my estimates out of the water.”

He followed her into the cabin, ducking under the low lintel. Meixing was curled up on a couch and gave him a bright smile as he entered, but Xuelian didn’t give him more than a quick, cool glance before turning back to the jars and bowls that she was fitting back into an old wooden chest. He could see it was full of jars and linen bags and drawers of some very odd looking herbs and dried pieces of fungus before Xuelian closed the lid on it.

Marin pulled out a scroll and unrolled it on the little dark wood table in the middle of the cabin, her entire attention fixed on it as the rest of the Seishi crowded through the door behind him. Daisuke found himself edged to the side, Zhu Yi’s bow digging into his ribs, and Zhang Yong muttering under his breath when Daisuke tried to move out of the way.

“It’s here somewhere. Xuelian reminded me that the previous priestess had a problem with her quest to summon Suzaku… Ah!”

Marin stabbed her finger at the script in front of her.

“Here.”

They all drew closer, leaning in a little to see.

“The summoning failed the first time,” Zifeng summarised, “because of a false Seishi, and Tai Yi Jun set them to gather the shentsopao which are the holy treasures of the priestesses of the Four Gods, so that they might have the power to summon Suzaku.”

“A false Seishi?”

There was some uneasy shifting and a few sidelong glances.

“Well, it’s not me,” Meixing said brightly. She tugged her collar down to reveal a glowing red birthmark like a scrawled character on her neck. It faded away, and she let her collar fall back into place.“I’ve had the mark of Hotohori since I was born. His Imperial Majesty named me for it himself, and it’s in my birth records.”

“And what a lovely name it is,” Daisuke said solemnly, glancing sideways to meet Marin’s exasperated look with a gleam of humour. “Beautiful Star. It suits you, Your Highness.”

Meixing lit up with a brilliant smile, and Marin shook her head, turning back to the scroll with a troubled frown.

“None of you are false,” she said without looking up. “I know that.”

“How do you know?” Daisuke interjected, and got a whole lot of black looks. “Look, all of this is very nice, but does it get me any closer to getting home again?”

“We don’t get home until Suzaku sends us,” Marin snapped. “So help figure out how to get Him here, or stop talking.”

Daisuke shrugged. “How do we do that? That ceremony you think you stuffed up?”

“That was supposed to bring Him here, yes. We tried to summon Suzaku, but nothing happened.”

“No, I did feel something,” Jing Yun contradicted from near the door. “Something happened, but Suzaku didn’t manifest.”

“What was supposed to happen?” Daisuke prodded.

“Once the Priestess brings all the seven Seishi together in Suzaku’s temple, and she performs the rites and incantations, being pure of mind and body, then Suzaku is supposed to appear and grant her three wishes,” Zhang Yong explained impatiently. 

“I must have got something wrong,” Marin muttered, still staring at the scroll.

“ ‘Pure in mind and body’? Daisuke repeated mockingly. He snorted. “Don’t tell me your god goes in for the whole virgin priestess thing too?”

“Do you have a problem with that?” Marin asked the scroll in front of her sharply.

“No, no,” he said soothingly. “I’m just wondering what’s in this priestess thing for you? You have to keep your hands off anything fun and think pure thoughts. Although,” he added thoughtfully, flashing a glance at Zifeng, “maybe that’s not so hard if you’re stuck with Captain Amazing here.”

“It gets a lot easier if the alternative is someone like you,” Marin said without looking up, but Daisuke could see a hint of a blush creeping over her cheeks. “And my … love life… is not relevant.”

“It kind of is if the Great God Flaming Feathers is refusing to show up because you’re fooling around with His Lordship.”

Now Zifeng was glaring at him, and the chill in his gaze could have flash-frozen the sea around them.

“How _dare_ you speak to the Priestess in that manner?”

“Zhao Zifeng is a perfect gentleman,” Marin cut in, her dark eyes narrowing at Daisuke as she finally looked up. “And there is no _fooling around_.”

“You poor thing,” Daisuke sympathised.

“You might have difficulty restraining yourself, but I don’t. And a moment of _fooling around_ is certainly not worth risking the fate of the world for.”

“How do you know if you’ve never tried it?” He ignored the swell of outraged voices, grinning at her as her blush spread and she flashed a glance at the crowd around them.

“I am not having this conversation with someone I barely know.”

“Hey, you’re the one who called me here, sugar. All I’m saying is, you’re missing out on some good stuff because a bird – an actual bird – is telling you what you can and can’t do.”

Her chin came up and her eyes flamed with a sudden challenge that he found himself responding to.

“So you think I should let _you_ tell me what I should be doing instead?” Marin asked tartly.

Daisuke laughed. “Fair call.”

“Strangely enough, I didn’t make choices about my love life on the basis of whether some god was going to show up, but now that I’m here, I have a responsibility as the Priestess of Suzaku.”

“Okay, okay,” he held his hands up in mocking surrender. “So pure in body is covered. What about pure in mind? Have you been having any dirty thoughts you feel like sharing with the class? And feel free to give us all the juicy details.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Her outrage would have been more convincing if she didn’t seem to be fighting down an answering quiver at the corner of her mouth, and he found his grin growing broader.

“So what’s supposed to happen once you’ve done your priestessly duty, summoned the god, and made your three wishes?”

“Order is restored to the Universe of the Four Gods, and the beast god devours the priestess in sacrifice,” Marin pronounced, and then laughed as Daisuke’s eyebrows shot up. The smile that briefly lit up her face was a startling change to the intense seriousness that seemed to be her default expression, and he found himself wondering how he could get her to do that again. Zifeng didn’t seem as appreciative of her levity, and her eyes fell under his thin-lipped gaze.

“Or at least, that’s what the records of Suzaku say, but they all describe something like the red light that happened when I came to this world, so I’m rather hoping that it’s not literal. I assume that once Suzaku appears and the wishes are made that He sends the priestess back to our world and we can go home.”

“But He didn’t turn up when you did the ritual. So what actually happened, once you said the incantation?” Daisuke went back to the heart of the matter.

“The tengu turned up,” Marin said. “And so did you.”

Zhang Yong broke in angrily with a jerk of his head in Daisuke’s direction. “And you don’t think that’s significant? How do we know that he’s not the reason the ceremony went wrong?”

“It makes little difference why the ceremony failed,” Zifeng cut the argument off with finality. “We know now that there is another way to successfully summon Suzaku, and that must be our goal now.” He bent over Marin, speaking quietly to her. “I shall give the captain orders to sail for Beijia, if you will turn your efforts to finding something that may help us locate the shentsopao of Genbu’s priestess. Is there anything in the records you rescued that might aid us?”

Marin looked up at him, her face troubled. “I don’t know yet. I’ll need to do a bit more reading. I wish I could get my hands on the Records of the Four Gods to check.”

“The half a ton of books you made me lug here isn’t enough for you?” Daisuke teased, and Marin gave him another exasperated look.

“What I have here are the accounts of Suzaku’s priestesses. The Records covers the whole history of the Universe of the Four Gods, going back to the beginning, including all the priestesses of all four beast gods.”

“Then why didn’t you bring that one along with the rest of the library?”

“Because there is only one copy, and it’s at Mt Daichi in Tai Yi Jun’s palace.”

“Regardless,” Zifeng interjected, “it is not here, and we must proceed to Beijia.”

“But, Zifeng, if we don’t know what happened, it might happen again and we can’t afford for another summoning to fail,” Marin protested.

“I understand your concerns, Marin, but we need to act. I cannot see another course that offers a better chance of success.”

Daisuke, who had been watching the exchange with cynical interest, asked, “So what the hell is a ‘shentsopao’ anyway?”

“Tai Yi Jun says it’s something, an ornament or talisman, connected to one of the priestesses of the four gods that’s become imbued with the power of the summoning, so if you gather enough of them together then they have enough power to help call one of the gods,” Zhang Yong answered.

“Right. And who or what is Tai Yi Jun?”

Zhang Yong scowled at him as if he had just questioned the very order of the universe. “How can you not know of the Great Sage, the Emperor of the Heavens?”

“Why would I know anything about it?” Daisuke scoffed. “I’m not from around here, remember? And you’re on first name terms with the Emperor of the Heavens?”

The young monk drew himself up proudly, his grip tightening on the staff he held as he stared down Daisuke. “I have trained at Mt Daichi since I was six. Tai Yi Jun herself chose to take me in and oversaw my instruction.”

“Well, good for you, sparky,” Daisuke said.

Somewhere out on deck the deep-voiced gong shivered in the air, and Daisuke could hear the clump of feet in answer. From the cookhouse, there was a clatter of bowls and voices, and Xuelian pushed everyone towards the door. Before he could follow them, Xuelian caught at his arm.

“Not like that, you don’t,” she said decisively, nodding at the jeans and leather coat he was still wearing under armour. She turned back to a chest at the other end of the stateroom, and bent over it, turning over the clothes inside. Xuelian handed him a bundle of clothes, a black tunic and loose trousers that felt like rough silk, and when he began to strip off his armour and coat the doctor hustled the young princess towards the door.

He heard Meixing whisper, “But I want to stay!” as he started to tug his t-shirt over his head, but the door clicked shut firmly on the princess’ protests. He shook his head with a grin and tossed the t-shirt into a corner. As he reached for the tunic, he glanced up and caught Marin staring before she looked away quickly and fixed her attention on the books in front of her. His grin grew wider as he shrugged the rest of the clothes on and wrapped the tunic into place.

“What happened when you found the book?” she asked, not looking up from her notes.

He shrugged. “I saw the book on my desk, I heard you yelling for help, there was a flash of red light, and _bang_.”

At that, she looked up impatiently. “That’s it? Did anything else happen before that? Anything strange?”

“Other than the tengu?”

There was a long silence.

“What?”

“Three guys tried to jump me when I was on my way home, but they turned into crows when I fought them off. With my teeny tiny knife,” he added provocatively.

Marin cast her eyes up to the rafters, and he could hear her muttering something under her breath. It didn’t sound complimentary. She made him describe, in excruciating detail, every second of the encounter and exactly what the tengu had said when they attacked him, and then grilled him on everything from the breakfast he’d eaten to the train route he’d taken while she took notes.

“And you’d never seen the book before? No one else could have put it there?”

“Well, where did you find it?” he asked. “If it was the same day after school then you opened it only a couple of hours before it turned up in my bedroom. Someone would have had to get if from wherever you had it to Arakicho and upstairs past my mother.”

“I found it in the Einosuke Okuda restricted collection at the National Library.”

“And the librarians just let you in there?”

Marin gave him a blank look.

“Of course they just let you in,” Daisuke amended. “They probably all know you by name. But why were you there in there in the first place?”

“Einosuke Okuda was the one who brought the Book of Sky and Earth from China and translated it into Japanese. He was a famous journalist, but I was interested in his work on Chinese mythology and translation. It turns out that work was all about finding the Book of Sky and Earth. His translation of it was there in the collection, and I opened it and,” she gestured at everything around them, “here I am. The point is, how did the book end up in your bedroom a couple of hours later?”

Daisuke wiggled his fingers at her. “Ma-a-gic!”

At her eye roll, he spread his hands. “What? It’s a good theory, given everything else that’s been happening lately. We both got here through some sort of magical portal in a book. Now, if that’s everything –“

“Sit,” Marin said in a voice that brooked no refusal, and Daisuke found himself sinking onto the stool opposite her, growing increasingly restless as she interrogated him on detail after detail. His fingers drummed on the table as Marin made yet another meticulous notation, but she didn’t even seem aware of his impatience.

At some point Daisuke realised that the questions were testing his knowledge of the world he’d come from. He reached across and grabbed a sheet of paper and a charcoal willow stick.

“I go to Yotsubadai High. I live in Arakicho with my parents and my older brother.” He was drawing as he spoke. “I’m in my final year of school, my blood type is B, and I have no idea how or why I ended up here, but I am definitely not a part of this world.”

He handed her the sketch he’d been drawing, watching as her eyes widened a little. She clearly knew the location, but then he had been fairly certain that someone like her would recognise it. It was a tiny little bookshop near the National Library that specialised in graphic art and manga and books about obscure artists, and the owner knew Daisuke by name. It also wasn’t somewhere that he could have known about or drawn in such detail if he hadn’t been there himself.

“Are we done yet, Priestess?” he asked. “Either you believe me by now or you don’t, and I don’t much care which as long as you get me back home.”

“Oh, I already did believe you,” she said, still staring at his drawing. “But I do have to check my facts, don’t I?”

He couldn’t help smiling at that. “I’m beginning to get the impression that you do.”

“This is really skilled work. So you’re an artist?” she asked, and Daisuke felt his smile fade as he looked away.

“Graphic fiction art, mostly,” he muttered, dusting his black-smeared fingers on his trousers. “Comic format, and illustration. I have a webcomic I’ve been working on,” he admitted.

He glanced up to find her, chin propped on her hand and study forgotten, watching him with arrested attention, and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Is that what you want to do when you leave school?” Marin asked, and he shrugged.

“It’s a hobby.”

“It sounds like a lot more than a hobby to me.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not engineering.”

“So where are you planning on going next year? You’re not applying to the University of Arts?”

“Do I look like a Geidai candidate?” he said wryly. “I’m not planning on sitting the university exams.”

“Why not?”

Daisuke made a face. “Hikari’s always been the brains of the family. What’s the point?”

She gave him an incredulous look, but didn’t argue the point any further. When Marin finally released him and he escaped from the stateroom he closed the door behind him and leaned back against it with a sigh. Jing Yun silently handed him a cooling bowl of fish stew and rice with a sympathetic look, and Daisuke downed it without comment.

He emptied the bowl and handed it back. “Tamahome. Hotohori,” Daisuke said a little drily. “Which constellation are you?”

Jing Yun leaned down and drew the leg of his trousers up to show a symbol glowing on his knee.

“Chichiri, constellation of the Well,” he said briefly, and Daisuke nodded.

“And Tamahome gets the girl. Does the Priestess get any say in that at all?”

Jing Yun just gave him a look, and clapped him on the shoulder as the thief moved away and settled against the wall of the cookhouse to watch Zhu Yi and the game of coins the archer was involved in with some of the crew.

Daisuke glanced around to find Tian Zhen watching him with a thoughtful look on his good-natured features.

“Which one are you?” Daisuke asked him, and Tian Zhen held up one large hand. It lit briefly with a red symbol.

“Mitsukake,” he said laconically. “Sign of the Chariot.”

“And guard dog for an Imperial princess,” Daisuke needled him, but Tian Zhen just smiled placidly. “How did that come about?”

“When Meixing found out we were related, she sort of adopted me.”

“You’re related to the princess?” Daisuke asked curiously.

“I grew up with the stories about the night my grandfather’s uncle usurped the throne and my grandfather escaped into hiding.”

“Huh,” said Daisuke thoughtfully. “So you’re really a prince?”

“A tea farmer,” Tian Zhen said firmly.

“And Zifeng is Meixing’s cousin. Does he acknowledge the relationship too?”

Tian Zhen suppressed a snort, and wandered away to grab the back of Meixing’s sash before she could overbalance as she leaned out to watch the fish flitting through the churning water beneath them.

~~~~~

For the next few hours, while the scenery slid by, Daisuke wandered the ship, getting used to the clothes that Xuelian had found for him from the small store that Zifeng’s family kept on the ship. He wasn’t so thrilled about all the layers, and the sleeves of his outer robe still kept getting in his way, but it did allow much more freedom of movement. By the time the first watch lanterns were lit for the night, he was standing in the prow of the ship, absently flicking his butterfly knife open and closed again and watching the waves break under the ship.

The girls retreated to the stateroom, and Daisuke followed the rest of the Seishi to the cabin that was obviously used by the family’s ranked servants. Zifeng was wearing an expression of noble martyrdom, and Daisuke suppressed a snort. _His Lordship, slumming it_ , he thought uncharitably, and threw himself into his bunk and pallet.

There was a low murmur of comments and observations that he knew no part of, and he turned his head back to stare up into the rafters of the cabin above him. He settled into the hard, narrow bunk, and as everything tipped and rolled under him he closed his eyes on his first night in another reality.

He dreamed of fire and falling between the worlds. Somewhere around midnight there was a soft shuffle and quiet voices, and the clink of pots and bowls from the cookhouse as crew collected their supper and changed hands for the night watch. The sounds faded, leaving only the slap of waves against the hull and the occasional groan of misery and seasickness.

Daisuke fell back into an uneasy doze and restless dreams until something tugged him back into waking. As he lay there waiting for the dream to fade, he noticed a dim light half hidden a few bunks down.

“…I don’t _know_ why he’s here, Master,” he heard Zhang Yong whispering.

A voice like cracked glass answered, “Then find out, Chiriko. Find out, and protect the Priestess.”

The light flickered and disappeared, and there was a frozen silence from Zhang Yong as someone else mumbled and rolled over in their sleep. Daisuke heard a soft clinking sound as if something was being hidden under a sleeping pallet, and then the heavy stillness settled over the cabin again. It was a long time, though, before Daisuke could get back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It never made much sense to me that this book of Chinese origin would hang around waiting until it came to Japan before it would draw in four Japanese girls to act as priestesses. The book itself has a history. Einosuke Okuda heard about it, tracked it down and located it in China somewhere, and translated it. It had been around for a long time before Fushigi Yuugi begins, so I ran with the idea that Takiko Okuda wasn’t the first girl to be drawn into The Book of Sky and Earth, but rather the first of a new cycle of priestess, a cycle that’s repeated at intervals in the Universe of the Four Gods, and that there have been many priestesses called before.
> 
> To clarify, there have been a few times when I’ve deliberately deviated from the Viz English translation. One is where Viz translates the title of the book as “The Universe of the Four Gods”. The more literal translation is given as “The Book of the Four Gods of Sky [or Heaven] and Earth”. I’ve gone with calling it “The Book of Sky and Earth”, partly as a call-back to “The Chronicles of Mountain and Sea” and partly to differentiate between the world of the Universe of the Four Gods and the book itself.


	5. Sparring

# Sparring

This is a burning house, but we should stay inside

‘Cause something’s telling me that we should stay and fight

I know it’s going to take a lot to change your mind

But baby, put your white flag down

I’m rolling up my sleeves right now

[Bloodstone: Guy Sebastian]

Dawn was announced by the gong and drums, stirring the ship into activity, and Marin spared a quick moment to splash water from a pitcher on her face before she came out onto the deck. The wind had carried them far from Rongyao, and between the water and the lightening sky there was no limit to the endless blue.

Zifeng was standing on the quarterdeck beside the captain, incense rising like a ghost from the bronze brazier behind them. As soon as he saw Marin, he descended to meet her.

“Have you seen Daisuke?” she asked, and a frown shadowed his face for a moment.

“Why are you seeking him?”

“What’s up, Priestess?” Daisuke’s voice drifted down from the rigging, and Marin tilted her head back, shading her eyes, until she could see Daisuke far above. He was braced precariously on the rope ladder where it was anchored to the mast, and it swayed under him as he leaned back against the mast and grinned down at her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Marin asked sharply.

Daisuke raised an eyebrow at her. “What does it look like I’m doing? I need to stretch my legs a bit. I’m bored. And the view’s amazing from up here. Come on up and see,” he said, and swung almost upside down to reach a hand out to her with a grin.

For one heartbeat she stared at his callused hand, but Zifeng’s disapproving huff broke the moment, and then the ladder shifted unsteadily. Marin bit back a cry of alarm, but Daisuke just caught at the rope with his other hand and laughed.

She called up to him, “Hold onto the ladder, you idiot! There are other cures for boredom than risking your life climbing the rigging.”

“It’s okay,” Daisuke said consolingly. “If I die, you can have the fun of saying ‘I told you so’.”

“Reckless,” Zifeng muttered. “This is unnecessary. You need not waste time on seeking answers from this outworlder. What does it matter how he came here, or why the ceremony failed to summon Suzaku? We know what we must do to remedy the situation.”

Daisuke swung down and landed on the deck beside them with a thud.

“Maybe you’re just worried about what Marin will find out,” he suggested provocatively. He tilted an eyebrow at Marin. “Are you sure His Lordship here is the real Tamahome? Maybe he’s the fake.”

Marin stepped between them before Zifeng could rise to the bait, her hand gentling on Zifeng’s arm as she drew his attention to her.

“If we don’t know what went wrong then it could well happen again, and we can’t afford to fail a second time,” Marin insisted. “I need to talk to Daisuke, and I need answers.”

She held his gaze until the crackling tension eased _,_ but Marin could see that the lines around Zifeng’s mouth were tight, and the look in his eyes was thunderous as he watched Daisuke follow her back to the stateroom.

~~~~~

“Out of curiosity,” Daisuke said as the door of the stateroom closed behind him, “who’s Zhang Yong’s master?”

On the other side of the room, Meixing paused the sweep of her blade to throw him a dimpled smile before she went back to the series of sword forms she was running through with fluid efficiency in the confined space. She had clearly had exquisite training.

Marin looked back over her shoulder at the question. “That would be Tai Yi Jun.”

“The Great Sage thingy?”

“The Supreme One, the Great Sage Emperor of Heaven,” Marin corrected primly. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “I overheard Zhang Yong talking to someone last night. He called them ‘master’. It just seemed odd.”

Marin made a soft, non-committal hum, but Meixing said, “Oh, he talks to Tai Yi Jun in his mirror all the time when he thinks no one’s looking.” At Marin’s frown she added, “Is that important? Zifeng said –“

“Zifeng knows?” Marin cut her off sharply, and Meixing’s eyes widened. Daisuke could see Marin visibly rein herself in and summon up a reassuring smile for the princess, but the rigid set of her spine when she turned back to the books spoke volumes.

“- how the hell does anyone expect me to _do my job_ if they keep information from me that _I need to know_ –“ he heard her muttering savagely under her breath, and he touched her arm gently. Meixing was still watching Marin with an anxious wariness even as she took up the sword exercises again.

“Not that I don’t enjoy yanking your boyfriend’s chain,” Daisuke said, “but what do you need me here for?”

Marin straightened, taking a deep breath.

“Why did the tengu come to you in our world? Never mind how they got there, why did they come to you? Why did they think you’d know anything about where Suzaku is?”

“Sugar, I still have no idea.” He leaned back against the wall. “Just interested, did the tengu attack the Temple before or after that ceremony?”

Marin stared at him with an arrested expression.

“After,” she said thoughtfully. “Which would suggest that, unless they mistimed the attack, that they weren’t trying to stop us from summoning Suzaku. You said that the three that found you in our world asked you where Suzaku was?”

Daisuke nodded.

“So they wanted Suzaku for something. But what? And we’re back to why did they think that you would know where He was?”

“You’re the one with the books and the theories. I’m just here because I’m bored and I’m clearly not going home anytime soon.” 

“Have you ever seen Him? Or had dreams about Him? Anything?”

Daisuke sighed a negative.

“What have you heard about the four gods? Any stories?” Marin asked.

“Beyond the same fairy tales that you probably grew up with? Nothing.” He shrugged impatiently. “There were firebird puppets and fireworks at some of the summer festivals we went to as kids, but I think I would have noticed if I’d see the real deal.”

“You have festivals in your world?” Meixing asked, pausing on one foot with her sword balanced in her hand. “Do you have lanterns? I love the lanterns, but we were never allowed to dance or eat the food or do anything fun.” She wrinkled her nose, and quoted “ ‘A princess must be modest and composed, and reflect well on her family.’ “

“Sounds dull.” Daisuke wrinkled his nose back at her.

Marin dragged a folio across the desk towards her, and he watched as she submerged herself in her research with that shift of intense focus. She looked up when she realised he was still standing there and pushed a stool towards him with one foot.

“Well? If you’re bored enough to risk your life in the rigging you can help me find some answers.” Marin levelled a look at him, and from the other side of the cabin, Meixing giggled. “Slave driver,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched up as he sat opposite her. “I bet you’re the kind who’d rather stay home with a book than dating.”

“When the alternative is guys like you? Definitely a book, every time. Besides, I go to Midorikawa Academy. There aren’t a whole lot of boys to choose from there,” she threw back.

“You go to Midorikawa? You’re kidding me, right?”

“You know it?”

“A whole school full of girls? Of course I do,” he said with mock indignation. Marin rolled her eyes.

“Of course you do,” she echoed.

“I bet you look hot in your uniform.

“Perv.” She got to her feet, gathering a handful of papers.

“Please tell me you’re a classroom monitor or something. I love a woman in charge.”

Marin shook her head, and stood up. She leaned down to grab another book from the basket in the corner, and threw a look at him over her shoulder.

“Actually, I’m the school captain,” she told him, and he heard her stifled laugh when he fell backwards in an exaggerated swoon, one hand over his heart.

“You’re killing me here, sugar.”

“I’m sure you’ll live.”

“Does His Lordship know about this side of you?” he teased, and Meixing giggled, but it was as if a shutter suddenly closed down on Marin’s face. She dropped a pile of books in front of Daisuke without saying anything further, and Daisuke almost regretted needling her like that.

“Seriously, you’re killing me,” he groaned. He turned idly through a few pages. “We get sucked into a book and end up in a world that looks like it’s straight out of a Chinese fantasy, and I still wind up doing homework,” he complained. “How is that fair?”

“Who said life was meant to be fair?” Marin asked, lifting her eyes to meet his. She drew a quick series of symbols and handed the list to him. “These are the names you’re looking for. Just keep a look out for any mentions of Zhuque or Zhuniao. Some parts of the texts refer to Zhurong, or one of these other names. Or you’re looking for Suzaku in the more recent records in Japanese. I’m trying to find any mention of when the god appeared in the world.”

“They’re written in Japanese too?” He flicked to the end of the book that she’d handed him and raised an eyebrow at the mix of recognisable kana and kanji instead of the older Chinese script he’d been looking at. “Interesting.”

He glanced down at the scroll under her hands. He could make out part of the calligraphy, but the text that disappeared under the roll of paper was in a different hand, the ink faded and the script incomprehensible. “You can actually read that?”

“Yes, but then I’ve been studying classical Chinese and calligraphy for some time now,” she responded, her attention back on the scroll.

“Seriously? You must be good at it if you can make any sense of that.” He nodded at the scroll. “What script even is this? I can barely make out half the characters, let alone understand any of it.”

“I won the Honda prize for Classical Chinese Poetry,” Marin admitted, sounding as if she was confessing to something shameful, and Daisuke gave a faint whistle.

“Smart girl.”

She shrugged dismissively.

“At least it got my mother off my case about studying Classical Chinese. She’s happier, now that she can drop that into conversations.”

“And she wasn’t happy before?” Daisuke asked incredulously. “What did she want?”

“She wanted me to study modern Chinese. More business prospects and career opportunities there,” she added, seeing his confused look as she turned her head towards him.

“So you studied classical instead. You rebel,” he teased, but he eyed her with a new interest.

“Not really. I’ve always been the good girl,” Marin responded bitterly. “Kimiko’s the rebel.”

She turned back to the scroll, hunching her shoulder slightly.

“And who’s Kimiko?” Daisuke prodded, tipping his head down to meet her eyes. Marin sighed.

“This really isn’t getting us anywhere. I’ve got work to do if I’m going fix things.”

“Kimiko the rebel sounds like someone I’d like to meet,” Daisuke suggested, enjoying the way Marin’s dark eyes flashed fire as they met his.

“You and everyone else,” Marin snapped. “My little sister is the fun one, and I’m the one who winds up cleaning up her mess when everything goes south. You and Kimiko would get on like a house on fire, I’m sure.” It didn’t sound like it was meant to be a compliment.

“You sound like my brother,” Daisuke said a little sourly. “Did it ever occur to you that she might not need you to fix everything for her? I get so sick of Hikari jumping in and telling me what I’m doing wrong all the time. It just makes me want to screw everything up worse, just to see how far I have to go before he stops trying to do everything for me.”

He pulled back, reaching for a charcoal stick. “At least my mistakes are mine.”

They ignored each other for some time after that. Daisuke hadn’t realised he’d been idly drawing in the margins of his notes until Meixing slid onto the stool next to him.

“What are you doing?” the princess asked curiously, tilting her head to see, and he checked his instinctive move to cover the page. “Oh, that’s pretty! Marin, he’s drawing you.”

Daisuke briefly shut his eyes, and opened them again with a sigh to find Marin looking at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Draw me next,” Meixing demanded, and he reached out to flick her hair with his charcoal stick.

“As Her Highness commands,” he gave in with a wry grin, and turned over a fresh page. Meixing watched with bright eyes as he quickly sketched in the first lines. When he finished, he handed her the portrait with a flourish.

“There. It is but a poor reflection of your beauty,” he said extravagantly, and Meixing gazed up at him through her eyelashes, giving him a flirtatious smile that would have been devastating if she had been six years older, or he had been a different person.

As the gong rang out for the midday meal, the princess flung herself out of the cabin, clutching her portrait.

He heard her yelling, “Tian Zhen! Tian Zhen, look at what Daisuke gave me!” and he couldn’t help grinning.

“It looks like you have an admirer,” Marin said, flicking a glance in the direction of the retreating princess. Clearly she was willing to talk to him again.

Daisuke raised an eyebrow.

“Are you jealous?”

“Desperately,” she responded drily, and he laughed.

“Never mind,” Daisuke said. “She’ll get over it.”

“Rather quickly, if she spends much time with you. You might want to tread a bit more carefully, though,” Marin warned him. “She’s young, and she’s spent all her life in the Imperial harem away from guys like you.”

Daisuke snorted. “You really don’t have much of an opinion of me, do you? That big guy with the plants who follows the princess around everywhere must think she’s safe around me if he hasn’t stomped me flat yet.”

“Oh, Tian Zhen will squash you like a bug,” Marin agreed. “But I will gut you slowly and decorate the trees from here to Beijia with your intestines if you even think about hurting her.”

“I had no idea you were so bloodthirsty,” he said cheerfully. “That’s so hot.”

She rolled her eyes at him as he held the door open for her, but he saw the flickering smile she tried to hide as she turned away.

~~~~~

The air was growing colder out over the water by the seventh day. Sometime in the night they had passed out of Hongnan’s territory and the shoreline in the distance was a ribbon of gold as the sun came up. The ship skimmed past the broken spires of rocky and inhospitable islands, and the helmsman heaved the rudder sharply towards the shore as the wind dropped. By the time the sun was directly overhead they could make out the curves and shadows of the sand dunes. The call went out to drop anchor.

Zifeng sent Zhang Yong to find out what was going on, and was told that the wind had died. The news that there was no help for it, they would moor there until the wind picked up again, left Zifeng at his most imperiously bad-tempered but there was nothing to be done. They would have to wait for the wind.

For three days they were becalmed, and among the Seishi there was a sense of watchful tension that only grew as they remained unmoving in the hot, still air. When Daisuke leaned over the side of the ship, the water below was as smooth as glass and it was disconcerting to look down into the sea floor and the shoals in its depths.

As more days wore on, the tension grew unbearably thick along with the heat. Small fights broke out, and Daisuke watched the captain’s face grow more dour, his creased eyes frequently shifting from water to sky and back again, as if looking for something that should be there but wasn’t. The Seishi eyed each other in unspoken communication and trod warily as Zifeng’s face grew more mask-like. The only one who seemed untouched by the growing atmosphere was Marin, and she focused on her books and notes with single-minded intensity.

The sun rose on another day becalmed, and Daisuke wasn’t the only one on deck at dawn, unable to sleep in the close, prickly heat of the cabin. In a clear space between the barrels and ropes Zifeng was running through a series of sword forms, and the languid elegance of his movements was belied by the clenched tension in his jaw.

Daisuke tucked his hand into his tunic as he watched, fingering his butterfly knife. Zifeng made it look so easy, but much as he disliked the golden boy, Daisuke guessed at how deadly it could be at full speed.

Zifeng executed a particularly beautiful and elaborate sequence of moves.

“If he tried that in a street fight, he’d get himself killed,” Daisuke muttered sourly, and behind him he heard Jing Yun’s snort of agreement.

“Although he really is as good as he thinks he is,” Jing Yun told him. “And with Tamahome’s strength behind his sword, he’s almost unstoppable.”

When Marin stepped out of the cabin and moved across the deck to join them, Daisuke said, “Your boyfriend’s not bad with a sword. What weapon do you use?”

“I don’t,” she said, and added, “I’m the brains of this group.”

“I can see that.”

Marin shot a mischievous glance past him to Jing Yun. “My Seishi won’t let me fight.”

Jing Yun put his hand over his heart and gave a deep and florid bow.

“And have our Priestess risk a fingernail? Besides, there’s got to be some point to keeping us around.”

Marin’s eyebrow lifted. “Other than your appalling cooking skills?”

While Jing Yun teased Marin back, Daisuke hesitated, then reached into his tunic and held out his butterfly knife to Marin.

“Here. A present for you, Priestess.”

“But won’t you need it?”

“I can always get something else.” He shrugged. “And at the rate you attract trouble it won’t hurt you to have a little extra, easily concealed weaponry. Something no one’s expecting. I can teach you how to use it,” he said casually.

“I bet you can. Are you a martial artist?”

Daisuke shrugged again. “I trained a little, but I couldn’t stick at the discipline stuff. People ordering me around.”

“I’m shocked,” Marin said drily.

“Hikari was always the karate star. Perfect form, perfect discipline. I got…” he paused, looking for the word, “practical experience. Fights in the street, no one cares how textbook your form is. You’re either the one on the ground or the last one standing, and no one’s checking to see how you got there.”

More of the Seishi had drifted over to join them. Marin was holding the closed blade awkwardly.

“See if you can open it,” Daisuke suggested, and Marin fumbled the catch, swinging the handles open with her other hand. Daisuke grinned at her. “I think we need to start with learning to open it with one move, one hand.”

He held out his hand, and when she handed the knife to him he demonstrated with practised ease. He passed it back to her. Zifeng had put away his sword and was watching them with a frown.

“You do not need to do this,” Zifeng told Marin, his voice stiff with disapproval. “We are here to protect you.”

“And what if you’re not? Are you going to follow her around every waking second?” Daisuke asked, and he turned back to Marin. “Okay, try that again.”

Marin tried to flick the blade open the way Daisuke had, and hissed as the handles pinched her. Zhang Yong glared at Daisuke as if he was the one who’d harmed the Priestess, and Zifeng frowned in concern.

“If you must take up weaponry,” he said stiffly, “I could teach you.”

Daisuke made a faint noise of derision. “You’re all kinds of awesome with a sword, Your Lordship, but Marin doesn’t have time to learn that skill.”

“You would have her learn the disreputable tricks of the streets,” Zifeng said with a sneer, and Daisuke’s grin grew sharp.

“Yup. Better disreputable than dead,” he said cheerfully.

“You do not need to do this,” Zifeng repeated.

Marin gave Zifeng a wry smile. “I want to do this. Daisuke’s right - I’d like to be able to defend myself a little, even if I’ve got my warriors to keep me safe,” she told him, and turned back to Daisuke. “Show me again.”

She tried to flick it again and nearly dropped the knife. Daisuke silently reached out to reposition her fingers.

“Try this,” he said, wrapping his own hand around her wrist to guide her. It gave him an excuse to focus on her hands, to laugh with her and tease her and have her turn those eyes on him with that look of incredulity as he got more and more outrageous just to see her react. And if Zifeng watched him with cool disapproval, and Zhang Yong lurked too close with black looks and suspicion oozing out of every pore, well, Daisuke didn’t much care.

By the time the gong sounded for the shift change, Marin had a few more bruises across her fingers but she was at least able to clumsily get the knife open with one flick of her wrist. Daisuke grinned at her proudly.

“Not bad, Priestess.”

His gaze involuntarily following the Priestess, as she tucked the knife into her sash and walked away to join Zifeng on the other side of the deck with Zhang Yong sticking close by.

“You really do like to live life on the edge, don’t you?” Jing Yun said behind him. “Just don’t go destroying my world because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“Your god can’t be stupid enough to think that all she’s got going for her is purity,” Daisuke responded, his eyes still on Marin. “I’ve never met anyone quite that scary smart, and that glint in her eye when she forgets about trying to be Little Miss Perfect...” he trailed off, realising that he was smiling in spite of himself. “Heaven help the poor idiot who gets in her way.”

Jing Yun just shook his head again, and slid a wrapped bundle across towards Daisuke.

“I thought you could use these, seeing you gave away your little knife there.”

Daisuke unfolded one corner of the wrapping, and his eyebrow shot up. Carefully, he lifted one of the two exquisite daggers, and drew it from its sheath. Light rippled along the blade as he tilted it, and the carved hilt felt perfect in his hand. He swept it gently through the air, watching its steel path.

“Where on earth did you get these?” Daisuke asked, feeling a little lightheaded. Jing Yun glanced back over his shoulder, and Daisuke followed his line of sight to Zifeng, silhouetted against the sky like a prince straight out of an epic story. Daisuke’s grin widened.

“Let’s just say,” Jing Yun said, “that I think you might need them more than their former owner. I don’t think I’d go flashing them around, though, if I were you.”

“Don’t you want them yourself?”

“I don’t profit from my friends. But I don’t think it’s a good idea, letting you go unarmed. And if it yanks His Lordship’s chain a bit, then that’s just a bonus.”

“I shall treasure them all the more for that sentiment.”

They shared a grin, and Daisuke slid the blade carefully back into its sheath.

“Although His Lordship isn’t the only one who’s not happy about me running around with weapons,” Daisuke added drily. “I get the feeling that if Zhang Yong had his way I’d not only be disarmed, but chained to the mast with a round-the-watch guard on me.”

Jing Yun made a derisive noise. “And you’ve worked so hard to get him to like you.”

“He started it,” Daisuke muttered, realising even as he said it how childish he sounded.

“Zhang Yong has not exactly had an easy time of it. He has reason to be angry and scared.” At Daisuke’s questioning look, Jing Yun revealed, “The tengu attacked Hongnan for the first time when Zhang Yong was about six. His father administered a tiny village in Zifeng’s family’s lands until the tengu appeared up out of the blue and killed everyone. Zhang Yong was the only one who survived, but not before the tengu had torn him up and left him for dead. It was days before anyone found him.”

Daisuke was silent.

“Then they found out that Zhang Yong was Chiriko, constellation of the Net, and Tai Yi Jun turned up and claimed him for training.”

“Have you ever met this Great Sage of his?” Daisuke asked.

“Once, when Marin brought us all together in Rongyao.”

“What’s she like?”

Jing Yun’s mouth curled in an odd, twisted smile. “Like everyone’s idea of their sweet little old grandmother. Until she looks straight at you.” His smile twisted further. “And that was what raised Zhang Yong after he lost his family and was left scarred and broken by the tengu. Cut him a break. It took him a long time to warm up to the rest of us too.”

Daisuke didn’t respond. He turned back to the weapons in front of him, drawing first one and then the other dagger free, his attention fixed on the play of light along the exquisitely forged blades. Jing Yun smiled faintly and got up while Daisuke examined the hilts more deeply. Ugly little monsters grimaced at him in a friendly fashion from the brass whorls of the guard, and under his fingers he could make out the elaborate curls of the inevitable phoenix tail carved into the dark wood of the hilt. He turned one of the daggers to follow the line of the firebird up to its surprisingly realistic gaze. It seemed to regard him with a benevolent eye.

“You, I can live with,” he told it, and came to his feet, liking the way the daggers felt in his hands and the way they flowed through the air around him as he fell into patterns of movement that he hadn’t practised in some time. But some things are never quite forgotten, and the kata came back to him like breathing as he tested the reach and feel of his new weapons.

He didn’t realise that Marin was watching him, still as a statue, her face impassive, until some time had passed, and he came to a halt a little less gracefully than he would have liked.

“Back again, Your Worshipfulness?” he asked flippantly to cover his stumble. He didn’t think she was fooled. “Did you miss me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said with a cool lift of her eyebrow. She nodded at the blades in his hands. “Where did you get those?”

Zifeng came up behind Marin, and Daisuke could tell the moment when he saw the daggers in Daisuke’s hands. His face smoothed out into a stillness that hid the fury that Daisuke saw flash in his eyes.

“They were just lying around,” Daisuke shrugged, his grin growing wider as Zifeng’s spine grew stiffer.

“Those daggers have been in my family for generations,” Zifeng said with glacial control. He held out his hand. “Return them now, and perhaps I won’t have you chained in the hold for the remainder of our journey.”

Daisuke looked down at the blades with mock thoughtfulness, and looked back up at Zifeng.

“You know, I rather like them. How about you fight me for them?”

“Are you serious?” Marin asked incredulously.

“One round sparring,” Daisuke said, still grinning at Zifeng in a way that he knew would infuriate the young noble. “First blood gets the daggers.”

Zifeng raised one austere eyebrow, and drew his sword with a sharp sound from the scabbard.

“And when I win, you will return the daggers.”

“If you win,” Daisuke accepted, and tipped his head to loosen the muscles in his neck. He slid the daggers free and settled them into his hands, flexing his fingers around the hilts.

Daisuke was dimly aware that a crowd had gathered to watch.

“Why are they fighting?” he heard Meixing asking, and Marin’s cool reply, “Because they’re idiots.”

Zifeng stood, watching him expressionlessly. His sword was balanced with a practised elegance, waiting for Daisuke’s first move. Patience was not Daisuke’s forte, and so he attacked.

It became apparent to Daisuke very quickly that Zifeng was going carefully, and it pissed him off. He pushed a little too fast, and Zifeng pivoted smoothly to let Daisuke overextend. Daisuke scowled. Zifeng’s expression didn’t change as he effortlessly avoided the blades.

Eventually, Zifeng executed a manoeuvre that was too fluid to follow. Daisuke threw up a dagger in a mistimed block and felt a bead of blood trail down his forearm, followed by a sharp line of fire, then the daggers fell from his hands as his legs were swept out from under him. Zifeng had obviously had enough exercise for now.

“Not bad,” the lordling said, and waited for Daisuke to stand again. “You lasted longer than I had expected.”

“Are you quite done?” Marin asked in arctic tones, and Daisuke picked up the daggers. He reversed the blades, offering Zifeng the daggers hilt-first.

“As agreed,” he said wryly, and Zifeng stared at them for a long moment before turning a swift, unreadable look to Marin.

“I think you may need them more than I do,” he said expressionlessly. “Just make sure that you acquire a little more practice with them before your life depends on it.”

Zifeng turned and walked away before Daisuke could respond to the dig.

“You really are an idiot,” Marin told him, backing him up to sit on a nearby barrel as she looked at the cut on his forearm. He yelped as she prodded at the cut.

“You’re a ruthless woman,” he complained.

“If you’re foolish enough to challenge Zifeng, then I have no sympathy for you. Just don’t get any blood on my books.”

Xuelian emerged from the state room with a length of linen in her hand. She gave Daisuke’s arm a cursory glance, and her lips pressed in a tight line.

“Do you want me to keep him out of trouble for the rest of the journey?” she asked Marin, and Daisuke’s eyes widened as a faint red glow crept around the edges of the doctor’s fingers. The symbol of Nuriko, constellation of the Willow, gleamed softly on Xuelian’s collarbone, and Daisuke shot Marin an alarmed look.

“It’s tempting, but we probably shouldn’t,” Marin said with a hint of regret. The red glow faded from Xuelian’s hand and she raked another scathing glance over Daisuke before she swept back to the state room.

Marin grabbed the linen that Xuelian had put near her elbow to bind up the cut.

“You know how on edge everyone is, stuck here. You know how worried _Zifeng_ is, and you had to go and provoke him anyway.” She tugged the binding a little too tight and he winced. “You deserved whatever you got. You’re lucky he’s too much of a gentleman to really fight you.”

“Yeah, he’s a gentleman, alright,” Daisuke muttered. He tilted his head curiously as he watched her focus on tying the bandage. “ _You_ don’t seem too bothered by this delay, though.”

“You want me to have a screaming meltdown about it?” Marin asked without looking up.

“No, I just don’t get why Zifeng’s got his panties in a bunch because the world is going to end if we don’t move soon, but you’re not fazed.”

“I just don’t see the point in getting flustered about something I can’t do anything about.”

Daisuke snorted. “Oh, please. You’re exactly the kind of control freak who’d lose it if something doesn’t work out the way you want it to.”

Marin glared at him.

“You’re just not convinced that we should be heading for this Teniaolan place, are you?” he pushed with sudden insight.

Before Marin could say anything, a faint breath of warm wind stirred across their faces. They felt it again, and Marin’s head turned to find Zifeng. She was frowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I have fudged a little on the names Marin asks Daisuke to look for, and the question of calligraphy and characters. The characters for the names Zhuque and Suzaku are going to be the same; the difference is more in the context – when Daisuke is looking at the Chinese script, the characters would translate into the Chinese name of Zhuque, and when the text shifts to Japanese the translation is Suzaku. This is complicated a little further when you consider that the books they’re looking through are written in a range of antique calligraphic scripts as well as more modern scripts. I glossed over this a little in the interests of trying to give some of the range of names associated with Suzaku without slowing the story down too much with a detailed sidetrack.


	6. Rising Winds

# Rising Winds

Come stand a little bit closer

Breathe in and get a bit higher

You'll never know what hit you

When I get to you

[I Want You: Savage Garden]

When the air moved again and the ship shifted under him, Zifeng let out a sigh, feeling as if he’d been holding it in for far too long. Marin left Daisuke to come and stand beside him, leaning over the rail with her face turned into the eddying breeze.

“It tastes like sand,” she murmured, pulling a face. She glanced up at him with a measuring look of concern, and he gave her a serene smile that hid his uncertainty.

“It was very generous of you to give those daggers to Daisuke,” she said. “I know what they mean to your family.”

Zifeng turned his gaze to the horizon.

“It was penance for my own misjudgement,” he confessed, and Marin’s brow creased. “I should not have allowed myself to be goaded into a challenge that was both unsporting and ignoble.” Although there had been a moment or two there when Zifeng was somewhat less certain of the outcome than he showed.

The breeze picked up, and Zifeng turned to the prow as the welcome sound of the drums and the gong rang out to set the sails and raise the anchor.

In a disturbingly short time, though, a hot desert wind swept from the coastline of Xilang out over the water. Shadows began to race across the sky, whipping the waves into a white froth and hitting them with a driving force as the ship lurched. Marin staggered, and Zifeng’s hands closed tightly on her arms, holding her upright.

The captain’s bellowed oaths from the deck overhead cut across the muted snap of the sails and the shouts of the crew.

“Secure yourself in the stateroom,” Zifeng ordered Marin, and he swept up the wooden steps to the captain’s deck.

Up above, the captain was barking orders and the helmsman and twenty-five sailors wrestled the huge rudder to bring the ship back. Crew were struggling to angle the sails, but the wind was fighting them every step of the way, shifting in every direction, and Zifeng had to peel hair out of his mouth as the stray strands lashed around him. There was a taste of grit and sand in the air.

The ship was veering far enough and fast enough, in spite of their efforts, that he could see the billows of sand rippling over the top of the cliffs on the approaching island as the wind shoved them away from Xilang’s mainland. Storm clouds blackened the sky, split by vivid lightning as the sound of thunder rolled closer with every passing second.

“That wind’s not natural!” the captain was shouting. “We have to drop anchor before it forces us onto a reef!”

“We keep going!” Zifeng snarled back. The ship bucked under their feet. “We have to outrun it.”

“Are you insane?!” The captain loomed over him, his face thunderous, but Zifeng seemed unmoved. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

“This is the first breath of wind we have had in eight days! If we don’t take this chance, who knows how long we could be pinned here?”

“We need to find harbour,” the captain growled into the sudden lull. “This wind isn’t right, and I want to make sure of what we’re sailing into before we run into trouble.”

“Do you truly think that whatever is sending this storm against us will allow us to port on Xilang’s shores? Or that we would find water or food in Xilang’s deserts?” Zifeng countermanded flatly. “We cannot delay. Our quest is vital.”

“I don’t care about your pox ridden quest, I’m not going to risk running my ship aground,” the captain growled.

“My family’s ship,” Zifeng reminded him sharply.

“And I am captain!”

“For now,” Zifeng said ominously, and the man’s weathered face darkened. The captain opened his mouth to speak, and Zifeng flung up a hand. “Enough. Return the ship to course and continue on to Beijia.”

For a moment it looked as though the captain was going to argue further, his face furious, but Zifeng spun on his heel and came face to face with his Priestess.

“Zifeng, was that wise?” she asked softly, and he felt himself stiffen at the gentle criticism. The ship rolled again, and they both staggered. He swept the deck with a look.

“Zhu Yi,” he snapped at the closest Seishi he could see still on deck, and the archer hurried over, fighting the force of the wind that scoured the ship. “Escort the Priestess back to the stateroom.”

“Zifeng!” she protested, but he ignored her.

“It is unsafe out here.”

Marin didn’t resist the pressure of Zhu Yi’s hand on her arm, but the look she turned on Zifeng was outraged. He watched until he was certain that she was safely closed away in the cabin. And turned to meet the otherworlder’s sardonic look as Daisuke leaned back against one of the tiny sampan boats lashed to the bulwark as casually as if he was standing on dry land while the ship rolled under them.

“You’re going to pay for that one,” the irritating otherworlder said over the crash of the waves.

“What right have you to object to the manner in which I keep my Priestess safe?” Zifeng bit back, and Daisuke’s mouth curled upwards.

“Not me.” He nodded at the closed cabin door. “Her. And she has a weapon now. I’m glad I’m not you right now.”

“You would not do the same to protect the one you love?” Zifeng challenged, but the otherworlder seemed more amused than angered by the contempt in his tone.

“Marin’s a big girl. I think she gets to decide if she’d rather be safe or not.”

Daisuke seemed to consider the conversation over, and he leaned precariously out over the side of the ship, his face turned into the wind as the ship bucked and heaved and the red sails snapped above them in the rising wind. Zifeng stepped back and left the reckless otherworlder to fall over the side of the ship, if that was what he chose. He drew a sharp breath and climbed to the captain’s deck as all hands fought sail and tiller against the malice of the air.

As the ship skimmed dangerously past the threatening island and the dunes of Xilang grew faint in the distance, the fierce storm winds dropped as suddenly as they had begun.

~~~~~

Daisuke heard sound of the gong shiver as the squall dropped sharply. He leaned out over the ship’s side, trying to catch the breeze as he hung onto the ropes, but the wild, exhilarating fierceness was gone now.

The hot, unnatural wind still panted at their backs, pushing them on, but the air around them was growing rapidly cooler, and the ship moved steadily and with a boring sedateness under his feet as the furious waves died down. In the far distance he could see two rocky pinnacles rising out of the sea from spits of land, and the ship seemed to be heading between them.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the pinnacles that loomed over the strait, and behind him the ship’s navigator looked up from his compass and charts.

“That’s the gateway to Beijia, the Beimen,” the navigator told him curtly. “We’re coming into the black water that guards the gates. The gods willing, we’ll reach Teniaolan in three days if the black water doesn’t drag us off course and if the wind holds true.”

Looking down, Daisuke could see that the water below the ship had turned as black as ink, swirling in cloudy patterns that kept shifting, and sea snakes writhed in the water in a tangle of red and black. The helmsman cast paper ingot offerings into the waves with an anxious eye on the direction of ship as the unpredictable currents tugged at it. Daisuke covered his nose with his sleeve as a foul smell rose from the water below, and he retreated to the stateroom.

At the sound of the door opening, Xuelian looked up from her medicine chest. The doctor was repacking the cloth that held her jars in place and kept them from rattling and breaking, and Meixing was wandering around, righting things that had fallen in the rough tossing, and returning silk cushions to the bed platforms and couches. The princess gave him a smile.

Marin, however, didn’t look as though she had moved in some time from the tiny desk and stool where she was bent over a handful of papers and an open book. The set of her mouth was tight.

“Are you a virgin?” she asked him without looking up, and Daisuke froze. The door swung shut behind him, cutting off escape.

“What?”

“Are you a virgin?” she repeated. Daisuke couldn’t help but glance at the other side of the cabin where Xuelian was pretending to not listen and Meixing was watching with a bright-eyed interest.

“Not for some time now,” he said cautiously. Marin crossed something off the page in front of her. “Why this interest in my sex life?”

“I’m just trying to eliminate some improbable theories,” she said absently. “I think that means we can rule out the possibility that you’re a priestess of one of the gods. Priest. What about strange dreams, or odd birthmarks?”

Daisuke noticed that Marin’s fingers absently brushed her forehead.

“You mean like Tamahome’s mark?”

She looked up. “Like that, yes. But it might be anywhere on you. Or a different colour. I can’t rule out that you might be here for one of the other gods.”

“Then why would I have heard you and not someone else? And if the gods are all colour-coded, wouldn’t I have seen a different colour light when I came here?”

The door opened again behind Daisuke, and Zhu Yi leaned around the edge.

“Zifeng is asking for you,” he told Marin, and the Priestess cut him off with a sharp gesture, her attention still on the books in front of her.

“Not now,” she said. “Zifeng wanted me safely tucked away in the cabin, so here I am. And I have work to do.”

“Besides, it smells out there,” Daisuke added. He saw Xuelian catch Zhu Yi’s eye. She gave him a tiny head gesture, and the archer backed out of the cabin. Xuelian got to her feet, brushing herself down.

“Smell or not, it must be time for the evening meal,” she said too casually. “Perhaps we should go and join the others.”

“I haven’t heard the meal gong ring yet,” Marin said to her books, and made another note. “You go ahead.”

Daisuke saw the mistrustful look Xuelian gave him, and Marin must have caught it too, because she said, “Oh, for heaven’s sake, you don’t need to hover over me, Xuelian. I’m not going to do something stupid with Daisuke and doom the whole world just because I’m a little… annoyed with Zifeng right now.”

“I don’t know,” Daisuke said cheerfully. “I’m in favour of it.”

“Why are you upset with Zifeng?” Meixing asked, but Marin didn’t answer her.

“Go on. I’ll come join you later,” she told Xuelian.

Xuelian sighed and drew Meixing out of the stateroom with her. In the doorway Xuelian paused, her glance falling on Daisuke again where he had settled in, and she turned back.

“Zifeng is only trying to keep you safe,” she said with a faint note of reproof in her tone. Daisuke watched the Priestess pretend to focus on her work until the door shut behind them.

“Alone at last,” Daisuke sighed melodramatically. “Now, what were you saying about doing something stupid?”

She fixed him with a level look. “That it was never going to happen.”

“You’ve never been even tempted to do something stupid?” he asked curiously. “Because I’m pretty sure there must be guys lining up all over Tokyo trying to get you to look up from your books. Or girls, for that matter,” he added. “I’m guessing there are at least a few at Midorikawa with raging crushes on the school captain. Unless you’re just not interested in sex.”

“There’s not a lot of time left for dating if I’m going to get into Todai next year. And I never met anyone who made me want to change my mind.”

“So you were waiting for the perfect man to sweep you off your feet. Glad to see that worked out for you,” Daisuke said a little sourly with a glance in the direction of the ship deck where Zifeng would probably even now be silhouetted heroically against the skyline. “What’s with the whole virgin priestess thing anyway? What difference does it make whether you’ve ever had sex or not?”

“It’s something to do with pathways of energy being unimpeded,” she said dismissively, and Daisuke snorted.

“What a load of bullshit.”

“Right now, it doesn’t matter if it is or not. That’s just the way it works in this universe. I stayed away from dating back in our world because I had exams to study for. I stay _pure_ here –“ Was that a hint of venom in her voice? “- or the world ends.”

“There’s a lot of world-ending in your scenarios,” Daisuke pointed out.

“And you wonder why I get so stressed when things go wrong.”

“I could help you with that,” Daisuke suggested with a raised eyebrow and a grin. “How pure does your god expect you to be, or is there a bit of wiggle room?”

“You can’t even go five minutes, can you?” Marin sighed, but she was trying to hide the hint of a smile.

“What _is_ the godly definition of purity, anyway?” Daisuke asked. “Clearly a kiss or two doesn’t count, unless His Lordship hasn’t stepped up there.” He tilted a mocking look at her. “Is he a good kisser?”

She didn’t dignify that with a response, keeping her attention on the book.

“What about hands under the shirt? Are the gods okay with that?”

He could see her bite her lip on a response.

“Or hands between your –“

Marin’s storm-dark eyes came up to meet his in an unexpected, amused challenge, even as she blushed like fire.

“What would you do if I took you up on that?” she asked, and he had the sudden, jarring feeling of putting his foot on a step that wasn’t there. _Those eyes_ , watching him with a hint of mischief. And now the thought was in his head, _what that mouth of hers might taste like if he just_ … It had been a stupid idea to tease Marin like that.

“That’s not really what you want, is it?” he said reluctantly.

“We’d all be in trouble if I said yes,” she said coolly, and went back to her books. Daisuke was left staring at the wayward fall of her dark hair over her shoulder, and the smudge of charcoal on her fingers as she made another meticulous note on the page beside her.

His attention was caught by a loose sheet that Marin was skimming past, a portrait sketch that had been stuck in between the pages, and Daisuke had his second jolt in as many minutes.

“Wait, go back.”

Marin shot him a curious look, but turned back. The sketch was the finely drawn face of a girl maybe a bit younger than Marin, and there was a vivid liveliness about her. Her eyes looked as though she was laughing at the artist.

“What’s that doing there?” Daisuke asked, and his voice sounded strained in his own ears.

“Hmm? That’s a portrait of the previous priestess of Suzaku,” Marin told him with a distracted glance. Then her gaze sharpened. “Why do you ask?”

“That’s my mother,” he said in a strangled voice.

“What?”

“That is a drawing of my mother.”

“What? No, it can’t be,” Marin dismissed the idea.

“I know my own mother!”

He snatched at a blank sheet and grabbed a stick of charcoal. With a few deft strokes, Daisuke sketched a face more familiar to him than his own. It was older, with laugh-lines etched around her bright eyes and a hint of wisdom that the younger girl hadn’t earned yet, but when he held it out to Marin it was clearly the same person.

“My mother was the Priestess of Suzaku,” he tried, and the words tasted odd in his mouth.

“So…” Marin said slowly. “What does this mean?”

“On the up side, we know that the former priestess got back home again and wasn’t eaten by any gods, so there’s that,” Daisuke said, still feeling stunned. His eyes gravitated back to the two portraits. “My mother was the Priestess of Suzaku,” he repeated, and it didn’t get any less strange.

“Which would explain _why you_ ,” Marin said thoughtfully. “You do have a link to this world after all.”

He looked up to find her frowning at him. It felt like she was mapping his features, then she dropped her gaze back to the book in front of her and turned a few pages. Carefully, she slid the open book across the table to him.

“Do you recognise anyone else here?”

He found himself looking at an old polaroid photo that definitely didn’t belong in this fantasy world. In the middle of the group of young men in the photo was very clearly a younger version of his father. A numb haze flooded his mind, but Daisuke latched onto one very important detail. His eyes narrowed and he gave a faint squawk of outrage.

“His hair!”

“What?”

“Look at his hair!” Daisuke pointed at the long tail draped over his father’s shoulder. “This is the guy who lectures me because my hair’s too scruffy and I want to get a tattoo!”

“Is that really what we should be focused on right now?” Marin asked caustically. “You’re not taking this very seriously.”

He didn’t need to ask who his father had been. If his mother had been the priestess of Suzaku, then it was obvious what role his father had played. The devoted protector.

“ _Fuck_.”

“Daisuke.” Marin levelled a look at him.

“What, you’ve never sworn before, Priestess?”

“It’s crass and unnecessary.”

“My father was bloody Tamahome! If ever there was a time for swearing, it’s now. How would you be feeling if you found out that your parents had met inside a book, and were on first name basis with gods?”

The sudden, inelegant snort that Marin gave startled Daisuke out of his stunned state. He stared at her while she collapsed into hysterical giggles.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped eventually. “I just had a vision of my mother as a priestess. Although Suzaku would have turned up for her. He’d be too terrified not to.” The giggles were starting to sound slightly overwrought, and Daisuke knew how she felt.

“Daisuke, what are we doing here? I’m supposed to be studying for my entrance exams, not summoning gods and saving a world.”

Daisuke dropped his face into his hands, shoving his fingers through his hair. “Priestess, I have no idea. I just want to go home again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested, I drew heavily on two papers on the subject of Chinese mid-sized ships for these chapters. One was “The Junk Passage Across the Taiwan Strait: Two Early Chinese Accounts” by Laurence G. Thompson, which gave translations of two contemporary accounts of sailing in the kind of ship I was trying to describe, and also really useful stuff like who would have crewed a ship of that size and what their roles would have been. There were also some rather poetic descriptions about sailing the Black Ditch in the Taiwan Strait.  
> The other was “The Voyage of the Keying” (1848) which, in spite of its rampantly patronising cultural imperialism, was very useful for a lot of details and layout on a ship of this size.


	7. Something in the Deep

# Something in the Deep

You make me feel invincible

Earthquake, powerful

Just like a tidal wave

You make me brave

[Feel Invincible: Skillet]

Zifeng was aware the moment that Marin emerged from the state cabin with the otherworlder on her heels. He refused to admit it, even to himself, but he had had half his attention on that door since the moment that Zhu Yi had returned with nothing more than a shrug and a sympathetic glance in answer to his request for Marin’s presence.

They had been closeted in there for most of the afternoon, and there was something in the way Marin turned to Daisuke, the way they leaned in to each other as they spoke – something not amorous, but charged and intimate. Zifeng wished he knew what they were talking about so intently.

The past few days on the ship had not brought him any peace of mind. Bad enough that they’d failed to summon Suzaku, and that they’d left the city behind them on the brink of war. His first loyalty was to his Priestess, but it still went against everything in him to run from a fight and from his duty to his emperor.

For the first time since he had seen Marin step out of the fiery rent in the air and into his world, Zifeng felt lost. When Marin lifted her head to the captain’s deck and met his gaze, her own expression was cool and unreadable. Zifeng stiffened his spine and moved with unhurried deliberation down the ladder towards her.

He could feel the judder of the ship as the treacherous currents of the black water released it, and the sail swung around overhead to catch the prevailing wind. The ship slid between the spires of Beimen, and the shouts of the helmsman and his tiller crew echoed off the rocky mountains as they steered a course through the narrow strait. The ship’s lanterns were being lit, and the light flickered on the waves below as the ship moved past the looming pinnacles.

“Have you eaten? You missed the early evening meal,” Zifeng said, attempting to keep his words cordial, but even he could hear the hint of rebuke in them. Behind the Priestess, Daisuke quirked an eyebrow, but Marin didn’t acknowledge his question.

“We have another complication,” she said bluntly. “Daisuke is the son of the former priestess of Suzaku.”

Zifeng became aware eventually that he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open in an unbecomingly vulgar way. He snapped his jaw shut, and tried words.

“What?” His elocution and deportment tutors would have been horrified at the disintegration of his language skills. “He’s what?”

“I can’t even begin to figure out what this means, but he is the son of Priestess Miaka.”

Zifeng frowned, trying to martial his thoughts together. “Are you certain?”

There was a snort from the otherworlder. “I’m right here,” Daisuke said sardonically. But Marin was nodding her head.

“Oh, I’m very certain. And there’s more,” Marin added. “Daisuke says that his father is Taka Sukunami, the former Tamahome.”

There was a moment of silence while Zifeng took that in.

“Then it _is_ possible,” Zifeng breathed. Marin’s shoulders hunched slightly.

“I don’t think we should get too carried away just yet. In all the records I’ve come across so far, there was only one time when the gods allowed the priestess and her Seishi to stay together, and that was Daisuke’s parents. If it really is them.”

“Really wish it wasn’t,” Daisuke muttered.

“But it is _possible_ ,” Zifeng insisted, ignoring Daisuke as he reached up to grasp Marin’s arms. “We could be together.”

“Zifeng, that _can’t_ be our focus right now!”

“How can you remain so calm when we are so close?” Zifeng frowned, shifting back to hold her at arm’s length. “Are you not anxious to complete our quest so that we may be wed? Now that we know that the divide between the worlds can be bridged?”

“Zifeng – “

“ _This_ is what you’re getting from all this?” Daisuke asked incredulously, his arms folded. “Never mind you’ve got a ship full of people in danger here, maybe you can finally get laid?” He shot a look at Marin. “What the hell do you see in this guy?”

“Daisuke –“ Marin said warningly, but he’d already turned back to Zifeng, who met the otherworlder’s contemptuous golden gaze with a chill fury of his own.

“The smartest person I’ve ever met is telling you she’s got a problem with your plan, and you’re not going to pay attention to her because your plan gets you married faster?”

“It also returns you home faster,” Zifeng pointed out, trying to keep his rising temper under control and leaving it to be inferred that anything that removed the otherworlder from Zifeng’s presence was to be devoutly desired.

“Getting killed because you didn’t listen to Marin isn’t going to get me home at all.”

Zifeng said coldly, “You may be the son of the former priestess and Tamahome – “

“Which would be worse?” Daisuke asked disingenuously. “If I was, or if I wasn’t?”

“- but that does not make you a part of this. _I_ am Tamahome in this time, and I have given my life to the Priestess. That has been written in the stars since the dawn of our world.”

“How do we know His Lordship here is the real Tamahome?” Daisuke threw the question at Marin with a provocative edge. Marin returned a warning glance which Daisuke ignored. “I mean, if we’re talking a guy from both worlds –“

Zifeng couldn’t help the snarl that escaped him. This outworlder who challenged his right to a place at his Priestess’ side – how _dare_ he? _How dare he?!_

And under it all, Zifeng felt the bite of fear.

“- who’s the better candidate here?”

Zifeng felt his forehead blaze with the savage mark of Tamahome and a red fury closed over him. Marin’s hand caught Zifeng’s arm as he lunged.

She shrieked, “Stop it! The both of you!”

As Zifeng jerked around, startled by the rare anger in Marin’s shout, a hollow boom thundered up through the ship, and the deck lurched under Zifeng’s feet. He nearly fell with the force of it.

~~~~~

Daisuke staggered, catching at Marin before she could fall. They heard the sounds of timbers breaking and cries of alarm, and the sound of people tumbling out of bunks. Feet echoed and thudded, scrambling onto deck, and Daisuke heard the captain’s shout over the chaos.

There was little to see in the glow cast by the handful of lanterns on deck, but a light flared bright as sunlight. Daisuke blinked and threw up a hand to shade his eyes against the sudden brilliance, and when it faded to something less blinding he could see Meixing standing in the doorway of the stateroom, holding a ball of radiance in one hand.

“What was that?” Marin asked over the panicked shouts and the commanding bellows of the captain. She set her hands on his chest and pushed herself upright, and Daisuke let her go.

Daisuke moved to the railing, trying to see past the reflections that Meixing’s light cast. Then something flickered under the choppy waves.

Something huge ghosted through the water underneath them. Daisuke frowned, leaning over the bulwark, but he couldn’t make out what it was, or where the vast shape ended and the whorls of the seawater began.

“Zhu Yi!” he called. “Your sight’s better than mine. What do you see down there?”

There was a brief silence, then Zhu Yi swore.

“Sacred ancestors, what the hell _is_ that?!”

Zhu Yi had an arrow nocked, and Daisuke saw the red sign of the constellation of Tasuki flare on his forearm as he trained it on the water. More people hung over the ship rail beside them, trying to make out what they’d seen, but whatever it was had sunk away, leaving only the murky green waves. Then there was a deep, wooden groan from below, and it felt as though the ship suddenly bucked underneath them.

One of the sails snarled and tilted, dropping down the mast amid shouts and loud swearing. Another cry echoed up from the bowels of the ship. The captain sent men scrambling to see what the matter was, and as one of the sailors scurried back up from below deck his face grew even grimmer.

Daisuke watched the captain snapping rapid orders at his crew as Zifeng joined him. And an argument began. Daisuke drifted closer as Marin joined them, in time to hear the captain saying “ – and now this!”

His face was thunderous as he stabbed a finger down at the deck below them.

“Whatever _that_ was damaged us. Only a fool would sail these god-infested waters, and only a thrice-forsaken idiot would sail them with a bloody great hole in the ship,” the captain growled, and Daisuke watched Zifeng draw himself up in icy hauteur.

“Watch your words, captain,” the young lord said coldly.

In the background, Daisuke grinned and muttered under his breath, “I think the captain pretty much nailed it,” but no one heard him.

“We sail on,” Zifeng commanded.

“Can we make it to safe harbour from here?” Marin intervened, and the captain drew a hard breath.

“Don’t worry, Priestess, the bulkheads are holding and I’ve sent my men down to patch it, but we need to put in somewhere and repair. I don’t know what you all are up to, and I don’t want to know, but I’ve got my crew to think of.”

“It doesn’t help that we’re running blind,” the navigator struck in. “Since we passed the black water and came into Beijia’s territory things have been hairy. Our charts are wrong, and we can’t rely on safe port if we go much further.”

“How are they wrong?”

“We have copies of all the nautical charts commissioned by the emperor. But there’re bits of the coastline missing, and islands that shouldn’t be there, and there are sandbars and reefs where the charts say there should be clear passage.”

Daisuke watched Marin as her eyes narrowed with that familiar intensity she seemed to bring to her research. “Show me.”

She followed him to the bench where he had charts and maps spread out, weighted down with various instruments. He traced a path over the topmost chart with one thick, rough finger. Marin stared down at it, and lifted her eyes to the coastline in the distance. She dropped her gaze to the chart again.

“That’s… not right,” she said slowly. “That steep cove isn’t on the chart. When was this made?”

“Not more than fifty years ago. If I had to guess, I’d say something happened along here, something big that tore up the whole coast and the sea floor with it, and now we don’t know what’s down there.”

“Do what you must to keep everyone safe,” Marin said firmly.

~~~~~

“Priestess, I would speak with you,” Zifeng said through gritted teeth. He caught her by the elbow as she turned away. “Now.”

In the background, Daisuke’s eyes snapped and he started towards them, but Marin quelled him with a look. She twisted her arm free of Zifeng’s grip.

“For heaven’s sake, Zifeng, the ship has a hole in it!” She was facing him now, and he had never seen her so intractable.

“You countermanded my orders,” he said furiously.

“I’m not going to let you sink us all!”

His fists were clenched, and Zifeng was conscious of the otherworlder watching him sharply, his hands hovering near his dagger hilts.

“Repairs can be made. They are being made, enough to get us to Teniaolan. Our quest for the shentsopao is too important to allow for delay. The whole world hangs in the balance.”

“Hooking up with the Priestess hangs in the balance,” jeered the otherworlder, but he held up his hands in contrition when Marin rounded on him.

“Stay out of this!” she snapped at Daisuke, and then they all staggered as something rocked the ship under them. Someone cried out.

Shouts broke out as something hit the bottom of the ship with a hollow boom and split the surface of the water beside them. Zifeng ran for the ship’s bulwark with Marin beside him, and leaned out to see a dark shadow under the ship, rising fast. Water ran off the sides as a vast mass broke out of the roiling waves like an island of ancient, pitted stone. As the water poured away, Zifeng could make out the huge pattern of ridges and whorls of an enormous tortoise shell. A monstrous snake coiled and melded around the tortoise, black scales rippling across the pitted shell as the hybrid snake-tortoise creature collided like thunder with the ship.

“Genbu!” someone yelled. “It’s the Northern God!”

Tian Zhen was beside Zifeng. “What the hell does Genbu want with us?!” he shouted.

The god’s serpentine beast head whipped out of the water and curved through the sky to loom over the ship. For one frozen, horrified moment, Zifeng found himself staring up into a monstrous cavern of teeth.

The captain of the ship was shouting commands at his crew, and Zifeng broke his paralysis to spin around and find Marin.

That was when he realised that the vast snake head was bearing down on his Priestess, its impossibly huge jaw gaping wide to swallow her whole.

Marin swung out with that ridiculously small knife of hers and stabbed ineffectually at the mouth rushing towards her, stumbling backwards as the wicked teeth clashed together with a force that shook the deck. Zifeng reached her just in time to grab her arm and pivot her out of reach as the sinuous neck, huge as a tree trunk, reared back for another strike. He swung his sword and struck sparks from its iron-black scales, but the beast god barely flinched.

Genbu snapped again at the Priestess behind him, and Zifeng backed them both up out of reach, his arm outstretched to protect Marin. Above him, he saw Zhu Yi’s scarlet arrow flash through the air and explode in a shower of black sparks against the snake’s eye. A forked tongue flicked out, brushing away the debris, but Genbu didn’t retreat or slow down.

Vines shot up from the planks of the deck, and Zifeng knew Tian Zhen was working his plant magic to hold back the god. Ropes of green tightened, binding the huge serpent head to the deck, and out of the corner of his eye Zifeng could see Xuelian moving perilously close, her hand outstretched to Genbu with the faint red mist of her power gathering around it.

“Xuelian! No!” Zifeng yelled, just as the beast god strained against the vines and broke through the fetters. A shockwave of black power raced across the ship as Genbu’s head rose into the sky, coiling over His immense tortoise-shell back, to whip back at them again.

Zifeng just had time to confirm with a glance that Xuelian was still breathing, her hand clutched to her ribs as she tried to push herself upright from the deck. Meixing and Zhang Yong had closed in beside Zifeng, their weapons in their hands, with Tian Zhen breathing hard and trying to recover from the backlash of destruction. Zhu Yi was perched on the captain’s bridge, his bow nocked and ready, and Zifeng could feel Jing Yun just behind him like a shadow, ready to protect the Priestess if Zifeng fell.

The beast god drew itself up, drenching the ship in shadow, and lunged straight at Marin. Zhang Yong thrust out his staff and the air rippled around it in red and black streaks as Genbu collided with the invisible shield the monk cast around the Priestess. The serpentine head flinched back and struck again. Zhang Yong was already shaking under the force.

“It won’t hold for long!” he shouted.

There was a wild card that Zifeng had forgotten until Daisuke muttered, “Oh, hell.”

The otherworlder’s eyes were fixed on the trapped Priestess with a strange look. Then Daisuke slid his daggers free and broke into a run across the deck, startling Zifeng. It took Zifeng a frozen moment to realise what he intended to do.

“Are you insane?!” Zifeng yelled, but Daisuke had already vaulted over the side of the ship. Zifeng was not the only one to race to the side of the ship, leaning over to watch in horror as the crazy otherworlder attacked a god with nothing more than a pair of daggers.

~~~~~

Marin’s heart was in her mouth as she saw Daisuke break into a run, his daggers in his hands.

“That’s Genbu!” Marin shouted over the roar. “You can’t fight a god!”

Daisuke flashed that infuriating grin at her, and vaulted over the side of the ship. Genbu’s huge snake head whipped away in pursuit and the water seethed around the god. Marin threw herself at the railing, trying to see through the thrashing darkness where Daisuke had disappeared, but there was no sign of him.

A sampan was lowered swiftly into the water, surging on the waves as it tried to reach the place where Daisuke had gone, almost suspended as Genbu’s bulk coiled through the heaving water. She could dimly see the men in the boat straining to bring it about, the coxswain balanced in the prow and yelling something.

There was a flash of red light, an explosion of seawater that almost swamped the boat and knocked Marin sideways. She clutched at the bulwark, a cry ripped loose, as Genbu disintegrated in an almighty sheet of water and something fell through the darkness, a faint, red-haired blur heading for the sea.

In that instant, another flash of ruby sparks swallowed the falling figure and lit up the heaving spume and Marin thought she saw him flicker, there one heartbeat, gone the next. Then he was there again, solid and falling fast. Daisuke hit the water and vanished beneath it.

Marin screamed wordlessly.

Zifeng had his sword unbuckled, dropping it as he shrugged swiftly out of his outer robe and plunged over the side of the ship in a controlled dive as the sampan was flung away by the wash of water. There was a long, sick time as the sea churned and settled below the ship, and nothing happened. Marin was dimly aware of other figures standing beside her, staring into the darkness, and the men in the sampan peering into the water.

Then faint movement broke the waves. Zifeng surfaced, dragging a limp body, and hands pulled them both into the sampan. By the time the tiny boat made it to the ship, Marin was at the ladder, shaking too hard to help as they hauled Daisuke’s unresponsive body onto the deck, the daggers still clenched in his hands.

Marin dropped down beside him, trying to push aside the panic and do something useful –anything - that would bring him back. His face was too pale, blanched.

And then, with a horrendous gagging noise, Daisuke rolled to his side and coughed up a lungful of water, heaving and shaking.

Finally, he pushed a wet fall of red hair out of his eyes and grinned up at her.

“Are you impressed?”

Marin stared at him, and sucked in a steadying breath of air. With all her strength, she smacked him in the chest.

“Ow!” Daisuke looked at her in surprise.

Zifeng had bent to reclaim his sword. As he straightened, water puddling around him on the deck, Marin reached out a hand to him, but Zifeng’s attention was fixed on Daisuke as he got to his feet.

“How did you do that?” Zifeng asked savagely. “That was a god. How did you defeat a god?!”

Daisuke raised an eyebrow, his grin turning sharp and feral as he met Zifeng’s flat stare. It was barely perceptible, but Marin saw his grip tighten on the daggers still in his hands.

“There’s gratitude,” he said lightly.

“Gratitude?!” Zifeng snarled. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

That was the moment a monumental detonation thundered through the seabed far beneath them and echoed up through the water. Marin staggered as the ship listed, rolled, and righted itself for a moment, then something smashed into the side of the ship with a terrifying shudder that shook the deck under them. There was a nasty sound of cracking timbers.

The ship rolled again on a growing swell. And everyone looked up as the sea rushed towards them in a wall of frothing green water.

Marin heard Zifeng behind, shouting at Zhu Yi over the noise of the damaged ship and the terrified cries of the crew to find Xuelian. Marin looked around quickly, locating the other Seishi and Daisuke, just as Xuelian hurried out of the cabin with her medicine chest clutched in her arms.

The wave slammed into the ship.


	8. Stone and Water

# Stone and Water

Trouble found me  
All I look forward  
Washed away by a wave

[Roots: Imagine Dragons]

Water crashed over the deck, sweeping away Marin’s table and everything on it. She clung to the bulwark in dismay as one book bloomed and scattered like petals on the swirling water, and the Chronicle of Suzaku unravelled as it was sucked away. Without thinking, Marin lunged after it, and felt someone catch the back of her tunic.

“Let it go!” Daisuke shouted at her. “They’re just books!”

He hauled on her shirt until she gave ground, backing up to where the ship’s crew were frantically working to get the sampans into the water before the damaged ship sank, taking them all with it.

The ship cracked with a thunderous noise, timbers splintering as another vast wave smashed into the side, and one of the sails tore away as the mast fell slowly into the sea. There was a dangerous scramble down the steep wooden steps on the side of the ship to the wet-deck and the waiting sampans. Marin felt hands steadying her. Something smashed the steps under her and she jolted, nearly falling. Tian Zhen swung her into a boat, scooping Meixing off the steps as they began to give way. She heard shouts and screams.

The sampan she was in rolled savagely in the waves. Beside her, Xuelian had one arm wrapped tightly around her medical chest and her eyes squeezed closed, and her other hand clenched on the side of the boat with whitening fingers. The steps gave way, dropping more men into the roiling waves. Marin desperately accounted for her Seishi then turned her eyes to the water as hands grabbed at the oars, heaving against the sucking pull of the sinking ship. More men were being yanked from the waves into the dubious safety of the tiny boats as they rowed for the far shore, but Marin could see bodies in the water. She saw the bronze incense burner sink like a stone in the spreading wreckage, the flicker of coals quenched as it fell into the darkness.

By the time the sampans grounded on the rough sand of the shore there was little left of the ship except a shattered mast still lurking above the surface and a mass of wreckage rolling in beside them on the rough waves. The beach looked like it had been pounded flat. Tidal waves had swamped the edges of the tree-line and rolled out again, leaving havoc in their wake, and the ground still trembled with the aftershock of Genbu’s death.

The moment the boats touched ground and Marin was lifted safely onto dry land, Zifeng snapped an order at Zhang Yong and Zhu Yi to guard her, and then he was back in the water, rowing out in search of more survivors. The captain, Daisuke and Jing Yun, and a handful of the crew waded into the surging water to pull out the living and the dead and collect what they could from the flotsam while Xuelian snapped open her medicine chest with grim purpose and began to tend the injured.

The coxswain who had helped rescue Daisuke from the water had caught a falling beam across his shoulder, turning it into a torn and bloody mess, and someone else was nursing what seemed to be a broken leg. Fully a third of the survivors were wounded in some way.

Zifeng finally returned with one last crew member hauled from the water. At Xuelian’s order a couple of able sailors went in search of fresh water, taking a broken half of a barrel with them to collect it in. Marin silently followed Xuelian’s directions and ground herbs while Meixing and Tian Zhen dipped the least grubby scraps of cloth they could find and attempted to clean the clots and streaks of blood from the wounded. Her Seishi were safe. Of the forty-nine ship’s company, she counted forty-three, and the sense of guilt was almost overwhelming.

She glanced down the tideline to where they had laid the bodies that they had managed to pull out of the water, covered now with the tattered remnants of one of the sails, and looked away again as an impossible pressure built in her chest.

Someone started a fire in a clearing above the flooded beach.

Eventually, Marin looked up to find Daisuke crouching next to her, staring into the flames. The guilt, the anger, and the adrenaline spike of fear she’d felt when she saw him leap over the side of the ship welled up again in her throat and threatened to choke her.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Marin asked him, keeping her voice down. “Did you even think?”

“Hey, I wasn’t going to let some giant snake tortoise eat my ticket home,” he said, the lightness of his voice at odds with the grim look in his hazel eyes.

“So you would have been okay with everyone else getting eaten by Genbu?”

“No, not really,” Daisuke admitted. “Except maybe His Lordship there. He can look after himself. The rest didn’t really go quite the way I planned.”

“Zifeng saved your life, you ungrateful idiot.”

“Oh, I’m plenty grateful. That doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

Zifeng, who had looked up when he heard Daisuke talking about him, said sharply, “What did you expect? You cannot kill a god without consequences, and your foolish heroics nearly killed us all. Six good men did die because of what you did.”

In spite of how furious and scared she’d been at the time, Marin came to Daisuke’s defence.

“We were going to die anyway, Zifeng. It wasn’t like Genbu was going to just change His mind and let us go. At least Daisuke bought us more of a chance than we had before,” she bit back.

“I have no idea what is and is not possible around here,” Daisuke threw in, with an edge to his voice. “Oddly enough, I’ve never fought a god before. A few weeks ago, I didn’t even know this world existed. So please, find me a way home and I’ll be out of your hair as fast as you like, and I’ll leave you to deal with the god-slaying.”

Daisuke gave Marin a perfunctory smile, then pushed himself abruptly to his feet and walked off towards the edge of the forest. Marin watched him go, and didn’t say anything to stop him, but she thought of the strange flash of red light as he fell, and the way he had seemed to disappear for a brief moment.

Everyone who was able worked through the afternoon, hauling whatever could be salvaged out of the flotsam washing up on the beach and trying to dry sodden clothing. Graves were dug under the trees and the sailors were laid to rest.

Marin shivered in the late afternoon, leaning over the fire to stir another one of Xuelian’s concoctions and warm herself a little. She found herself turning to watch the tree-line again. It had been hours since Daisuke had stalked off, and there was still no sign of him.

When his figure emerged from the deepening shadows, Marin let out a breath that she didn’t realised she’d been holding, and she stood abruptly.

Before she could say anything, Daisuke called out, “There’s a fortress about an hour that way!” He pointed back the way he’d come. “It looks like it was abandoned a while ago, but there’s enough shelter and maybe water there. It’ll be a bit rough, but better than staying exposed out here on the beach for long, especially if we’re in for more unnatural weather.”

Zifeng strode towards him. “You recall the way back?”

“No, of course not. I’m just telling you for the fun of it,” Daisuke snapped back sarcastically. “I marked the way, don’t worry.”

Zifeng frowned absently, his gaze fixed on the direction Daisuke had pointed out.

“It is too late in the day to travel there safely now,” he said eventually, and glanced over his shoulder to where the injured were being tended. “Xuelian!” he called. “Will everyone be in a condition to walk or be carried in the morning?”

With Xuelian’s cautious nod of assent, the decision was made and everyone settled down for the night as best they could with only a handful of scattered campfires for warmth and damp clothes, while the ground beneath them grumbled and trembled with the aftershocks of Genbu’s death. By the morning, Marin was feeling clammy and crusted with salt as she huddled against the other Seishi for any scrap of heat. She pushed Meixing’s outflung hand away from her nose and carefully extracted herself from the pile of restless bodies as the first hint of dawn cracked the edge of the horizon.

Xuelian was already up, checking on her patients, and it wasn’t long before everyone else stirred. There was nothing to keep them there on the beach, and shortly after the rising sun cleared the water they were pushing their way through the trees and the undergrowth, following the marks that Daisuke had left the previous day as they carried anyone too injured to walk.

Several times through the morning, the thunderclap of another quake rolled through the earth beneath them, and the birds would flee shrieking into the sky from the trees around them. The ground rippled in aftershocks as they kept going, staggering unsteadily through the undergrowth with their eyes on the branches overhead as they creaked and cracked ominously.

It was with something like relief that they spilled into a clearing as the trees ended abruptly. In front of them rose the remains of a massive stone wall. At full height, it would have risen far above the tops of the forest around it. Now, they picked their way through the overgrown rubble and through the wall. Small animals scurried out of sight as they moved into the broken chambers and storerooms that showed signs of housing the defensive forces once upon a time. Parts of the stonework looked like the only thing still holding it up was the vines and shrubs that had wedged themselves into the cracks.

“Nuchengkuo,” the ship’s navigator said quietly, and Marin turned to look at him.

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “This is Nuchengkuo, the Island of the Warrior Women.”

Marin’s mind was working furiously, trying to recall the brief look she’d had at the nautical charts and the scraps of historical accounts.

“How far from Beijia are we?” she asked, and the navigator frowned thoughtfully.

“Two days’ sailing in fair conditions from the nearest reasonable port,” he said eventually. “By sampan, you could reach Beijia in a matter of a couple of hours but you’d have to cross on the northern side of the island. You couldn’t row round the island from any other point without getting torn up by the Devil’s Teeth, and it’d be suicide to try and get to Beijia in a sampan by open sea.”

Marin lapsed into silence, still thinking as they came to a stop within the ruins of the fortress.

Zifeng was in his element, inspecting the remaining walls and finding safe shelter, ordering men out in search of wells and water, sending Tian Zhen forth to investigate possible food sources and edible plants. Once Marin had made sure that there was no further need for her, she left Zifeng and Xuelian to set up the camp and set off to walk what was left of the broken outer wall. Jing Yun and Daisuke fell into step behind her and she threw an irritated glance over her shoulder.

“Did you two draw the short straw for priestess guard duty today?” she asked drily. Daisuke grinned at her.

“Jing Yun drew the short straw,” he responded. “I just go where the excitement is, and exciting things tend to happen where you are, sugar.”

“Not this time. I’m just looking around.” She turned her head to look at Daisuke more fully. “Your parents came here, did you know? One of the Seiryuu Seishi attacked them and stranded them on this island, and they were taken in by the warrior women who lived here.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about my parents,” Daisuke said, and Marin heard Jing Yun chuckle. “Just how many priestesses have there been, anyway?”

“Before Einosuke Okuda translated the book and brought it to Japan? Hundreds maybe. It’s hard to say. I’m the eighth priestess from Japan. I haven’t been able to find out much about the other priestesses from this cycle, but the first Japanese priestess was Takiko Okuda, Einosuke Okuda’s daughter.”

“The guy who translated The Book of Sky and Earth into Japanese?”

“Exactly. Then Byakko called Suzuno Osugi, the daughter of Okuda’s assistant. And then your mother and Seiryuu’s priestess were called here at the same time. That doesn’t happen often, and never with the other two gods, but love and war seem to go together sometimes.”

“Love and war?”

“Love. War. Duty. Faith,” Marin said. “Those are the things that fuel the four gods, and that seems to be what the priestesses bring into this world. Suzaku is the god of fire and love, and Seiryuu embodies war.”

“So you’re the Priestess of Love,” Daisuke said, grinning at her, and she ignored the kick in her pulse at the sight. “Doesn’t sound like your bird god and the dragon there have much in common.”

“Sometimes we fight hardest for what we love most,” Marin pointed out. “Hongnan and Qudong nearly destroyed each other when your mother and Yui Hongo were called –“

“ _Aunt Yui!_ ” Daisuke yelped, cutting her off, and Marin stumbled in surprise. He shoved his hands through his hair, clutching at his scalp. “No. No, no, _no_!”

Marin and Jing Yun watched while Daisuke stomped away, muttering under his breath. He pivoted and came back to them.

“Please tell me I’m not related to any more priestesses,” he begged Marin. “You’re not my long-lost sister or something, are you?”

“It doesn’t seem likely.”

“Thank fuck for small mercies.”

“This is better than a play,” Jing Yun said, leaning back against the stonework with a wide smirk.

Daisuke took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “So Mama and Aunt Yui came here. They’ve been closer than sisters since they were kids – how on earth would they have ended up on opposite sides?”

Marin gave him a measuring look, still putting the pieces together in her mind and trying to decide how much to say.

“They fell out when Tamahome chose the Priestess of Suzaku over the Priestess of Seiryuu,” she said slowly, and she could see the moment when it clicked.

“Mama and Aunt Yui fought over _Dad_?!” Daisuke started swearing under his breath, and Marin waited until he’d gotten it out of his system.

“Do you feel better now?” she asked, and he gave her a sour look. “I gather it was a bit more complicated than that,” she added.

“I’m beginning to feel like you know more about my family than I do,” Daisuke said a little acidly. He glared at the grinning Jing Yun. “You’re enjoying this way too much, thief.”

Marin said, “I do have a vested interest in finding out as much as I can about the priestesses and their Seishi. I just hadn’t realised how involved and connected you and your family are in all of it until now.”

“I’ve never really thought much about the previous Chichiri,” Jing Yun said. “Did he have the same power as me?”

Marin shook her head. “He could transport from one place to another, and he had some illusion skills, although I think that was more to do with his training than his Seishi powers. Most of the powers are different, although sometimes similar powers show up in the records from one Seishi to another. Another Seishi your mother met – one of Byakko’s warriors – had the power to control plants, a little like Tian Zhen.”

“So, does the priestess get any cool superpowers?” Daisuke asked. He was still sounding a little out of sorts.

“I get to make three wishes,” Marin said, and Daisuke lifted an eyebrow.

“That’s not bad.”

“As long as I make the right wishes,” Marin added, and it was her turn to feel sour. “That’s one thing that all the records I’ve seen cover in a fair amount of detail – which wishes the priestesses made and how they were granted. All of them wish to make things better for their beast god’s country. And almost all of them wish to stay with their love. Do you know how many of those wishes got granted?”

Daisuke was watching her now. “I’m going to guess the answer isn’t good.”

“One.” She met Daisuke’s curious hazel gaze. “Your mother is the only priestess I’ve ever read about who got what she really wanted.”

“So that’s what you’d wish for?” he asked with an odd note in his voice. “To stay with His Royal Lordliness?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Marin muttered, and Daisuke frowned at her.

“It matters.”

“Not if what I want means the destruction of Hongnan and everyone I care about here.”

“I know what I’d wish for,” Jing Yun said with an exaggerated sigh. “Never mind the fate of the world, I just want a proper bath and a meal that I haven’t had to catch first. Throw in a pile of gold that I could swim in, and I’d be happy.”

“And Zhu Yi’s company?” Daisuke added slyly, and Jing Yun shot him a dark look.

Daisuke laughed, and Marin found herself watching him again, his hair a vivid patch of flame in the clear sunshine as he nudged Jing Yun and muttered something to the thief. The mysteries just kept piling up around him, and Marin had too many mysteries to solve and problems to fix already.

The more she thought about it, the more she was becoming convinced that after his fight with Genbu he had nearly returned to the real world, but if that were the case then it raised a lot of questions in her mind. Daisuke turned his head, and Marin abruptly looked away as their eyes met.

“It’s okay,” he said to her, grinning. “I know I’m irresistible.”

“That’s not how you pronounce ‘egotistical’,” she shot back.

They reached a point where the walkway in front of them had collapsed into rubble, leaving a wide break in the path. Daisuke took the gap at a run, making it look easy as he hit the stones on the other side and rolled to his feet with that annoying grin.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” he asked her across the break. “It might be time to head back.”

Marin looked down into several stories of ruined chambers below them. In answer, she put her hand on the wall and started to inch her way across the narrow margin of stone that was left.

“Atta girl!” Daisuke reached out a hand for her. Behind her, she felt Jing Yun hovering protectively until she’d nearly reached the other side and Daisuke caught her. Marin found herself hauled into a surprisingly strong, reassuring hold before Daisuke let her go, and Jing Yun swung himself nimbly along the face of the wall to join them.

They had reached the northern wall. Over the crenellations, Marin could see hills rising grey and green beyond the narrow stretch of water between them. Jing Yun raised a hand to shield his eyes, staring at the shore across the strait.

“Is that Beijia?” he asked. “It seems so close.”

“It must be,” Marin said. She leaned her elbows on the stone crenellation, reaching up a hand to brush her dark hair back as the wind blew it across her face. For a long time, she gazed at the country across the dividing strait, and Daisuke and Jing Yun were silent behind her.

“‘We crossed into Beijia with the tide’,” she quoted absently, and Daisuke shot her a look.

“Something up?”

“Just trying to remember something. I have a feeling it might be important.”

She looked down over the edge of the wall she was leaning on, and felt dizzy at the sheer drop. Waves crashed on the cliffs far below. There was no sign of a path or a way down, even if there had been any way across the channel of water, and when she tilted her head in either direction all she could see was jagged rocks spiking out of the water and making any hope of passage by boat around the island nearly impossible.

The thunder of another earthquake rumbled through the ruins of the fort, sending chunks of the wall crashing down into the cliff below, and Daisuke caught her before she could follow it over the edge, jerking her back to safety.

“Seen enough, Priestess?” Daisuke asked as the rumbling subsided, and Marin nodded.

Daisuke had to grab her more than once to keep her from drifting into obstacles as she tried to pin down the fragment of memory or knowledge or something that was nagging at her. Something to do with the adventures of the previous priestess and this island. Something about crossing into Beijia.

“You okay there, Priestess?” Daisuke asked curiously, and she shook her head impatiently.

“There has to be a way down the cliff,” she muttered to herself.

~~~~~

When they got back to the camp, Daisuke saw Marin stare off into space, her blank gaze turned to the north. She was muttering under her breath, and Daisuke watched in fascination as she frowned and lifted a hand to sketch lines in the air. Without warning, she set off into the remains of the fortress at a brisk pace, and Daisuke jogged after her before she could do herself any harm.

He followed her into the darkening shadows of the inner chambers. There were enough holes in walls and ceilings to let shafts of light through, but he blinked in the gloom, trying to make out what Marin was aiming for. He grabbed her before she could disappear down a set of steps that looked far too rickety for his liking.

“Oi, hold up, sugar!” he panted. “You’re going to break something going down there. What are you looking for?”

“The way down to the bottom of the cliff,” she said, as if it should have been obvious. “If we can find that, then we can cross into Beijia when low tide clears the causeway. That’s how your mother got off the island when she was here.”

She paused for a moment, her brow creasing in consideration. “Well, technically she jumped off the wall into the channel to get down the cliff, but I don’t think we should do that, do you?”

Daisuke, thinking of the sheer depth below the wall and the concept of his mother throwing herself from that height, shook his head numbly.

“And logically, the people here must have had some way down there.”

“Just… wait there a second,” he held up a hand, and backed away, worried that she would disappear into the darkness if he took his eyes off her. He leaned out of the broken doorway, and yelled, “Meixing! Got a minute?”

He heard someone shout back in response, and shortly Meixing arrived, surrounded by the rest of the Seishi. Meixing lit up her hand and stepped into the dank, cobwebby darkness, and everyone followed.

It took them the rest of the afternoon, under Marin’s meticulous direction, to work their way through all the lower chambers along the northern wall, and then down into the cellars below those rooms. There were a few near disasters when rotten steps gave way beneath them.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Jing Yun asked.

“A staircase, or a trapdoor. Some sort of way down to the bottom of the wall,” Marin responded vaguely. She was bent at the waist, squinting at the floor in the shadow-streaked light. “Meixing, can you… No. Not here.”

She sighed, and then whipped around as Zhang Yong gave a muffled shout. Daisuke saw him shove something that reflected the light briefly back into his tunic as they all hurried towards him.

“Here!” The boy pointed down, but all Daisuke could see was more flagstones with nothing to distinguish them from every other patch of floor they’d crawled over that morning. The boy reached out to an iron bracket on the wall and gave it a tug. The floor opened.

“How on earth did you find that?” Marin breathed, and gave Zhang Yong a brilliant smile. Daisuke ignored the quick stab of something that flashed through him as the boy beamed back at her, and he leaned forward to peer into the dark opening. He could make out stone stairs leading down out of sight.

Before anyone could say anything, Meixing had set her foot on the first stair, and skipped down with the light flickering around her in a golden halo. Tian Zhen followed, and left the rest of them to chase after the light before it vanishing around a bend in the passageway.

Down and down they all went, the occasional hushed whisper of conversation echoing eerily off the close walls, until Meixing came to a halt and they all piled up behind her. The steps kept going into the dark well of water that gently lapped against the stone, but Daisuke couldn’t tell how much further down they went. Marin bunched up her robes and crouched down, running her hand along the stones under the water as if she was feeling for something. She touched her wet finger to her tongue.

“Seawater,” she announced with a satisfaction that was hard to understand. She stood, and started to climb the stairs back the way they’d come.

“She’s got her research face on,” Jing Yun whispered to Daisuke as they climbed in her wake, and the whispers bounced off the walls.

“Ever have the feeling that we’re all just the cheer squad?” Daisuke murmured back, and Jing Yun gave him a questioning glance. “The support team trailing along behind while Marin does her stuff,” Daisuke explained.

Jing Yun chuckled. “That’s what we’re here for.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Marin called back, and Daisuke grinned.

“We’re not worthy!”

He heard her mutter, “No, you’re not,” and he laughed.

By the time the whole team had emerged from the passageway and returned to the camp, Marin was already engaged in a deep discussion with the ship’s navigator. As he drew close enough to hear, Daisuke caught snippets of the conversation about tide times and water depth.

Zifeng moved to stand commandingly at Marin’s elbow, and the captain strode over to the gathering group.

“We’ve found the path across to Beijia,” Marin was explaining with a barely contained excitement at a puzzle solved. “All we have to do is wait for low tide, and that passageway will lead down to the base of the fort wall. There’s a causeway from the wall directly across to Beijia, and I’m certain that that passage is the way down to it.”

“You are certain of this?” Zifeng asked.

“All we have to do is wait until the tide goes out tomorrow to confirm it, but yes, I’m sure. That hidden passage is right where it should be, and it’s full of seawater right now, but there are signs that the stairs aren’t always underwater like that. They dry out fairly regularly. And the records of the last priestess talk about how they leaped off the walls and crossed into Beijia with the tide, and the most plausible explanation that fits the coastal charts that we had and the description is that there is a tidal causeway that they used.”

Daisuke leaned back on a door lintel and enjoyed the way Marin’s hands moved as she expounded her theories.

Zifeng gave a sharp, decisive nod. “Then tomorrow morning we leave at low tide.”

The ship’s captain spun around at that.

“You’re just going to leave, just like that? I have injured men here.”

“And you are welcome to remain here and tend to them. In fact, that would be the preferred plan.”

“While you take the doctor and the medicines?”

Daisuke saw Marin’s face freeze at that, her eyes going wide, and she turned a quick, stricken look on the makeshift infirmary. A handful of the able-bodied crew got to their feet, ranging themselves behind their captain.

Zifeng drew his sword with a sharp sound.

“May I remind you that we hold the remaining weapons, and our celestial powers?” he said coldly. “I have no wish to fight anyone here, and I will send aid as soon as I return to my family’s demesne, but I will not allow you to impede our mission or threaten the Priestess.”

“I lost good men to this godforsaken mission of yours. I’ve served your family since I was a boy, and you’re just going to leave us here?” the captain growled, and swept one hand around the ruins. “And what are the chances that anyone you send for us will actually make it here? The gods are against us. We’re stuck here.”

“Will you be less stranded if the Seishi remain?” Zifeng snapped. The sword was still balanced and ready in his hand. “You have shelter, food and water here, and you have a path into Beijia if you choose.”

“We have no weapons, no doctor, no ship and no money to travel home,” the captain repeated, but not as if he expected it to make any difference. With one last, ugly glare at Zifeng, he spun around and stomped away. Zifeng sheathed his sword and turned to the Seishi.

“Gather everything you need, and make sure you keep your weapons close tonight. We leave at low tide.” He looked to Xuelian. “Decide what you can spare from your stores, but remember our quest must be the priority.”

“Zifeng?” Marin caught up with him in a few quick steps, speaking in an undertone. “Are we sure this is the best idea?”

“We gain nothing by waiting.”

“But we can’t afford to go wrong now. I need more information.”

Zifeng gestured at the ruins around them. “What information can we find here? All the records we brought are at the bottom of the sea now, but our path is clear. We need to seek out the shentsopao of Genbu’s priestess in Beijia.”

Marin glanced over her shoulder.

“Zhang Yong,” she said, and the young boy startled as if he’d been caught up to mischief. “I think it’s time we consulted with Tai Yi Jun.”

Daisuke noticed the way Zhang Yong’s gaze flicked to Zifeng before he reluctantly drew a hand mirror out of his tunic, but Marin didn’t say anything. Instead, she waited silently while Zhang Yong muttered something to the polished bronze surface, fogging it with his breath. When it cleared, an impossibly old face looked back at them, eyes twinkling in a mass of wrinkles.

“Well, well, what was so important that you called me out of my nap, Chiriko?” the elderly voice rasped Zhang Yong’s constellation name, but her glance slid away from the boy to take in Marin and the faces crowded behind her. “It must be serious.”

“We seek your advice about our course from here,” Zifeng said.

The old woman gave a cracked laugh. “I should have thought it was obvious. You need two out of the three shentsopao from the other priestesses to give you the power you need to make up for the ceremony that failed. Once you have those, as long as your Priestess there has been behaving herself,” the old woman twinkled slyly at Marin, “and as long as our Tamahome is keeping himself under control, you’ll have what you need to try again.”

Tai Yi Jun’s shrewd glance took in Daisuke leaning against the broken wall in the background, and her eyes narrowed.

“Now, isn’t that interesting. Who is our interloper there?”

“Daisuke got called into the book,” Marin told her. “He’s Miaka’s son.”

“Are you now?” the old woman said thoughtfully. “However did you find your way into our little world?”

There was still no answer for that question, and Daisuke fidgeted under the long, searching stare. Finally, the old woman’s black eyes shifted back to Marin.

“Find two of the shentsopao and bring them to me at Mt Daichi, and we can fix this debacle.”

Marin flinched at that, and Daisuke glared at the mirror, but the old woman’s attention had turned on Zhang Yong.

“Chiriko. We’ll talk later,” she said, and it must have been Daisuke’s imagination that the words sounded vaguely threatening as she waved a hand and her image dissolved on the bronze surface.

Zhang Yong tucked the mirror back into his tunic and Zifeng drew Marin aside. Daisuke watched him put a gentle hand on her arm as he talked, but Daisuke couldn’t make out what he was saying. Marin seemed to be arguing something, but the conviction was draining out of her stance, and Daisuke hated the way her shoulders seemed to slump. He pushed away from the lintel as Zifeng placed a kiss on Marin’s flyaway dark hair and left to go marshall the troops.

Marin took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders again as Daisuke approached.

“So we’re just going to wander off and leave the crew we nearly got killed stranded here? Because some old biddy said you were wrong,” Daisuke asked. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Tai Yi Jun has told us what we need to do to fix my mistake. Zifeng is right,” Marin said in a curiously expressionless voice. “The best thing we can do for everyone right now is find the shentsopao and end this. Half of the crew are injured and can’t travel, and the other half will slow us down. There’s food and water here, and once we make it back we can send help to get them home.”

“You’re just parroting Zifeng. I know you’re not happy about this.”

There was a sudden flash in her eyes. “Oh, don’t pretend you actually care about them.”

“Maybe I just know how they feel,” he snapped back. “They’re not the only ones who are stranded out of their world and trying to figure out how to get home again.”

“I’m trying!”

Daisuke was dismayed to see tears welling in the corners of Marin’s eyes. She looked away abruptly, lifting one hand to quickly swipe at her eyes, but when she turned back there was nothing there but a blaze of anger. “I’m doing my best to get everyone home and keep us all safe, and the best I can do right now is get to Teniaolan, find the damn shentsopao, summon Suzaku and wish it all better. So you can come with us, or stay here, but either way I’m going.”

She stalked away, and Daisuke didn’t try to stop her.


	9. Cracked Land

# Cracked Land

We all been lost, we all been called

Everyone rise to a brethren code

We got your back, we all been low

Let’s all rise to a brethren code

[Wolf Totem: The Hu (feat. Jacoby Shaddix)]

It was still full dark when Marin woke to Zifeng’s gentle touch on her shoulder. Beside her, Xuelian and the princess were stirring and groaning softly as they gathered up their packs. The rest of the Seishi were already awake, and Tian Zhen handed them each a peach as they joined the group. Marin suspected that he’d grown them last night, but didn’t ask, and the juice as she bit into it cut through the dry, sour taste in her mouth.

Meixing held up her hand, and they followed the soft light down underneath the northern wall of the castle. As they went deeper, down into the close, dark staircase that they had found the previous day, Marin began to hear the echoing roar of the sea beyond the wall. The sound grew louder. Finally, they were brought to a halt as their path disappeared into the well of water lapping at the stairs below them.

They waited in the narrow passageway, and Meixing’s light washed over the stones, reflecting in the steady ripple. As the tide slowly receded, pulling the water out with it, Marin found herself watching Daisuke. There was no hint of the severe man she’d seen last night in the annoying grin that Daisuke was flashing now, but she still felt bruised by their argument. If she was being honest, she had to admit that it was because deep down she agreed with him. It felt wrong to just abandon the ship’s crew here, but staying wouldn’t fix anything and the longer she took to find the shentsopao and summon Suzaku, the worse things would get for all of Hongnan.

Daisuke was responding flippantly to something Zhang Yong had said, and the young monk reacted with predictable bristling. Marin fixed Daisuke with a pointed glare.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Feel free to send me home any time if you don’t want me around,” he said with a spurious air of innocence, and Marin’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“If you’re so anxious to get home, why didn’t you take the chance when you had it?” she snapped.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

The waves had washed out of the passageway now, and through the archway they could see the first faint blush of dawn and the beginning of the causeway across the strait. Marin didn’t answer Daisuke’s question. She pushed past him to follow Zifeng out of the fortress.

The tide pulled away from the spit of land before them as they made their way carefully across the slippery surface. Marin wound up with her gown bundled up around her knees, grateful that she had been wearing boots when they abandoned the ship, and not the impractically beautiful slippers she’d fled the temple in.

Zifeng kept glancing back at her. Halfway across, he fell back to walk at her side, one hand hovering at her elbow.

“You shouldn’t allow him to irritate you like that.”

Marin made a frustrated sound, not needing to ask who Zifeng was talking about. “He just makes me so mad sometimes.”

“I can have a shallow grave prepared before sundown,” he offered with a rare show of humour, and Marin’s startled laugh brought out his own answering smile. He really was too ridiculously beautiful.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“In all truth, though, I believe he serves a purpose here and we must tolerate him, even if he is an uncouth, braggart outworlder.”

Marin raised an eyebrow at that.

“I’m an outworlder, too,” she reminded him, and he made a dismissive gesture.

“You are our priestess.”

“For all the good I’ve been doing,” Marin muttered, and Zifeng stopped for a moment. When Marin came to a halt, turning to see what had stopped him, he reached out and took one of her hands in his.

“We will win through,” he insisted. “I have utmost faith in you, Marin.”

She allowed her hand to rest in his briefly, then gently pulled it away.

“What do you think Daisuke’s purpose is?” she asked with a certain amount of trepidation, but before he could answer her they reached the farther shore and the Seishi gathered around them.

They scrambled up the rough beach into the foothills beyond. Marin found herself walking with Zifeng and Xuelian as Zhu Yi scouted the trail ahead of them. When Zifeng finally called a halt for the night, she felt Daisuke’s eyes on her as she helped Xuelian and Tian Zhen prepare the hare that Zhu Yi had brought down and the handful of herbs and roots that Tian Zhen had collected along their path. She ladled the stew into her bowl, her gaze sliding to the other side of the campfire where Daisuke had turned to listen to something Meixing was telling him, but when she looked away Zifeng was watching her with a frown. Marin gave Zifeng a smile and went to sit beside him with her stew, and bided her time.

~~~~~

Daisuke had settled himself a little away from the huddle of bodies as they set up camp for the night and curled up in blankets on the hard ground for the night. Against the utter blackness of the sky, the stars blazed with a white brilliance that dazzled his eyes, but there was something weird about them and he frowned, trying to work out what was bothering him.

He was distracted from the stars by a soft movement in the middle of the snoring bodies, and turned to watch Marin unravel herself from her blanket. She made her way across the campsite towards him, as if she’d been waiting for them to fall into slumber.

“Are all your watchdogs asleep now?” Daisuke asked, but Marin ignored the dig.

“The stars seem so close here, I feel like I could reach out and touch them,” Marin said softly, lowering herself into the space beside him. Daisuke turned his head to look at her.

“Tokyo feels a long way away, doesn’t it?”

“A whole universe away,” Marin agreed. Daisuke watched the shape of her mouth as she smiled, and he sighed. “It’s a whole other reality away.”

There was a long silence. Marin’s face was tilted up to the sky.

“Daisuke?”

“Hmm?”

She turned her head to look at him, and her eyes were dark and serious in the starlight.

“On the ship, when Genbu attack, I saw the red light, and you started to disappear. You nearly got sent back home, didn’t you?”

Daisuke didn’t answer, but she seemed to take his silence as a _yes_.

“All this time, you’ve been saying you wanted to go home. Why didn’t you go?”

Daisuke gave a small, uncomfortable shrug, and looked back up at the sky.

“Why would I leave when we’re having so much fun here?”

Marin regarded him steadily, but he didn’t say anything further. Truth be told, he didn’t quite know himself why he had pulled back. It made no sense. Eventually Marin got to her feet beside him and left him to watch the stars.

She picked her way across the campsite, pulling a blanket from her pack, and Daisuke heard her settle with a soft sigh among the sleeping bodies.

Daisuke leaned back against the rock. He was trying not to think too hard about the moment when the god died. When the sea had exploded around him and he’d been certain that he was falling to his own death.

He had heard his name shouted, echoing from the real world, and it had sounded like his mother’s voice. Daisuke had instinctively reached for the sound and felt the whirlwind of flame catch at him, pulling him home as he fell. And he had heard his name, ripped from Marin’s throat, calling him back.

The fire had surged around him, trying to reclaim him, but he had resisted. He fought the pull, and the whirlwind fell away, dumping him in the icy, black, heaving waters of the Universe of the Four Gods. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the implications of that.

There was the faint pop and crackle of the fire as it died down to embers, and Daisuke could hear the rustle of someone turning over. Near the sinking fire, Meixing burrowed into her nest of blankets with a little sigh. The sound he was most attuned to, though, was Marin’s faint, steady breathing as she fell asleep. If he tilted his head a little, he knew he’d be able to see her, just on the other side of the fire pit.

Instead, Daisuke fixed his gaze on the stars, picking out the bright constellations above the horizon that formed the vermillion bird of the south. It felt as though the firebird was looking back with curious interest, and he sighed.

“What am I going to do?” he asked the bird under his breath, but there was no answer.

“I am so screwed,” he sighed.

~~~~~

Sleep didn’t come easily to Daisuke that night, and morning came way too early. As the day went on, they saw the occasional cluster of round tents, white against the green and grey folds of the hills where streams cut through the land in ribbons that mirrored the brilliant blue above. A child trotted along behind a string of shaggy ponies, flapping his arms at them, and Daisuke waved at the kid. When he glanced back over his shoulder, the child was staring after them, goggle-eyed.

After two days of steady walking, Daisuke was beginning to feel fidgety for something different. Anything. So when they stopped for the night, as soon as they’d eaten, Daisuke stood and turned to Marin.

“Up you get, Priestess. We’ve got a few minutes before it gets too dark to see, so let’s see what you can do with that knife I gave you. Where is it?”

He held out a hand and hauled her to her feet, sighing as she bent to rummage through her pack.

“Okay, first rule, sugar. Always keep it on you. Tuck it up your sleeve, or in your sash, or your shirt – somewhere you can get at it easily. You never know when you’re going to need it.”

Marin finally found it buried at the bottom, and stood with the knife in her hand.

“But it digs in if I put it in my tunic, and it keeps falling out of my sash.”

“Then fold your sash so it won’t fall out. Your attackers aren’t going to wait around politely while you get it out of your luggage.”

“This is unnecessary,” Zifeng said from his position beside the campfire.

Marin flicked the blade open, and Daisuke was pleased to see that she remembered how to manage it one-handed, even if the movement was still a little clumsy. “No, I want to learn this. If we’re going to be travelling through demon-infested countries to collect two shentsopao, then I like the idea of knowing how to use a weapon, even if it is just a teeny tiny little knife.” Daisuke caught the mischievous glance she shot him, and he grinned back.

“I do not believe we need go further than Beijia,” Zifeng said as Daisuke corrected her grip, and Daisuke felt her pause, her eyes going to the lordling by the fire. “I believe we need only seek one more shentsopao.”

“One _more_?” Marin asked guardedly.

“Try a thrust from the shoulder,” Daisuke suggested.

“We already have the first talisman. I believe that this is Daisuke’s purpose in this world. Daisuke has come to us from the former priestess of Suzaku, the offspring of priestess and Tamahome, and I believe that in him we have the shentsopao of Suzaku’s former priestess.”

Daisuke found himself rendered speechless, but no one noticed his silence in the babble that broke out from the other Seishi. There was a sharp indrawn breath from Marin as she fumbled the knife and caught at the blade as it fell. Daisuke looked down to see blood welling up in her palm when she unwrapped her fingers from around the knife.

“Daisuke is not here as some sort of… talisman!” Marin insisted loudly over the noise as Daisuke grabbed her hand and lifted it. It was just a shallow slice that would sting like fury, but no serious damage.

“Yeah, that would be my brother, not me,” Daisuke snorted, his attention still on Marin’s palm. “Sugar, you need to keep your focus. Let it drop if you have to, but don’t grab at it if you don’t want to lose a finger.”

Zifeng came to his feet, his eyes on Marin. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“I’m fine,” Marin cut him off, and turned back to Daisuke. “What do you mean, that’s your brother?”

They were all staring at him now. He shrugged, and went on, feeling rather self-conscious. “Mama always called Hikari her talisman when we were kids. I was the spitfire.”

There was a heavy silence, then Zhang Yong said, “So we got the wrong brother? I knew it! I knew he shouldn’t be here!”

Marin glared at him. “No!”

“Story of my life,” Daisuke muttered.

“Or he’s taken his brother’s place to sabotage us,” Zhang Yong added darkly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Marin snapped at the boy.

Zifeng stood. He was perfectly silhouetted against the campfire, shining and noble, and Daisuke rolled his eyes. It was deliberate, it had to be; no one could pose that perfectly without a fair bit of planning. And possibly a full team of special effects wizards.

“You cannot deny that the evidence supports it,” the young lord told Marin with gentle condescension. “What alternative do you suggest?”

Daisuke noted the way they all looked to Marin, who was oddly silent. Her expression shifted as if she was trying to decide whether to say something or not. Finally she opened her mouth.

“For once, I wish you could just trust that I know what I’m talking about,” she said sharply, then she turned on her heel and stalked away.

“That was strange,” Jing Yun muttered, and Zhu Yi gave a snort of agreement.

When Daisuke caught up with her, just beyond the edge of firelight, she was working with the butterfly knife, flinching every time it caught her on the cut across her palm. He watched her silently while she stabbed at shadows with more anger than attention to skill. Finally, he said, “There’s another possible theory.”

She stopped, breathing hard.

“I was just joking about it on the ship, but the point is that I’m not just my mother’s son. I’m the son of Tamahome too.”

“Oh, I’ve considered that,” Marin said, and the odd note in her voice was hard to understand. “I have considered all the possible implications that I can come up with, but Zifeng is the true Seishi. I still don’t know how you fit into things here, but you’re not Tamahome.”

“Someone managed to fake it with Mama’s Seishi,” he pointed out, and Marin bit her lip. “What? What’s that look for?”

“I’m… trying to work out how to say this diplomatically.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Your mother and her Seishi did some incredible things, but… it shouldn’t have been that hard to work out that the imposter was faking it. There are some fairly conclusive proofs for the real Seishi.”

“That’s my Mama,” he sighed, but he didn’t suppress the affectionate smile that caught the corners of his mouth. “She doesn’t always think things through, and she tends more to the jump in and then ask questions later approach. So that’s one more theory down.”

“That’s it?” Marin gave him an incredulous look as if she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “No questions?”

Daisuke shrugged. “If you say you’re convinced, that’s good enough for me.”

She took another stab at the deepening shadows, correcting her grip and adjusting her feet before she tried again. “Besides, Tai Yi Jun confirmed all of the Seishi when they came back to Rongyao with me.”

“That old woman in the mirror who insulted you?”

Daisuke’s tone summed up exactly what he thought, but Marin said quietly, “She wasn’t wrong. When the Supreme Being and Emperor of Heaven tells you you’ve screwed up, you know you’ve really made a mess of things.”

Daisuke didn’t bother to argue with her, but he muttered _Fuck that_ under his breath. If Marin heard him she didn’t show any sign of it.

~~~~~

Marin wasn’t surprised when Xuelian joined them, picking her way across the rough ground in the gathering darkness.

“You’ve been a while,” the doctor said, and her tone suggested _Too long_. “It’s getting dark, and we’ve got an early start in the morning.”

“We’re coming,” Marin sighed, and snapped the butterfly knife closed. She let Xuelian draw her back towards the firelight, and ignored Daisuke’s soft snort as he followed them. She managed to give everyone a restrained smile before curling up in her blanket beside the sinking fire, but she was too worn out to be kept awake by troubling thoughts.

The next day brought more walking. The landscape around them had become broken, the hillside falling away in steep steps as if it had cracked under immense force, but from the way the edges had been softened and blurred with grasses and young trees it had obviously happened some time ago. In places, the road they were following swerved abruptly out and around huge rockfalls of boulders as if the road had previously taken another course. When Marin glanced over the edge of the road, down into the sharp valley below, she could see signs that there had once been buildings or villages in the path of the rockfall. Here and there, the rough tumble of gravel took on the hint of a roof’s outline, or a broken piece of archway jutted out of the boulders.

Eventually, they rounded a curve in the hill, and looked down on the city of Teniaolan in the bowl of the mountains.

Marin’s first impression was of a vast city, far larger than Rongyao, and then she noticed the odd cracks running through it, like a child’s scribble radiating out across the houses and streets and temples. She stopped for a moment, trying to make sense of it, and Daisuke looked back to see what was keeping her.

“Strange,” she muttered quietly, and he raised an eyebrow.

As they descended out of the hills, and the city grew closer, the cracks deepened into broad fissures that divided the city in uneven islands. Rough bridges of timber and stones scavenged from ruined houses had been built over the deeper fissures and then settled into permanence, and people hurried over them from one broken section of road to the other as if they no longer noticed the oddity. They could see glimpses of washing through the tumbled sections of wall that hadn’t been repaired, and every so often the Seishi would pass children racing and giggling through empty patches of ground that seemed to have been stripped of the building that had once been there.

As they came into a market street, the ground rolled under Marin’s feet with the soft noise of distant thunder again. Zhu Yi caught at her elbow as she stumbled, but she noticed that the people around them barely missed a step. A few glanced up as small stones were shaken loose from buildings, but when it became obvious that no further collapse was imminent they lost interest.

“You don’t think Genbu’s death caused this, do you?” Marin asked as they crossed another makeshift bridge, and Zhu Yi shrugged.

“It’s older than that,” he observed, turning his head to look around thoughtfully. “There’s been some recent damage, but the deepest breaks are weathered and old, and did you see the way they all seem to radiate out from the centre of the city? Whatever happened, it happened here and not at sea. They’ve repaired some of the buildings, but there’re a lot that’ve been left or stripped for stone and materials and then abandoned. And it’s nowhere near as busy as a city this size should be. It’s been like this for a long time.”

Looking around, Marin felt at something of a loss as they moved deeper into the city. Things grew a little noisier and busier as they went on, but now that they were here, where should they start? How to even begin to search for the shentsopao, or the priestess of Genbu? How would they all sleep, or eat, without anything more than the clothes they stood in and the things they had carried on them when the ship sank? It felt trivial in the face of everything that had happened, and that they had to do, but Marin was suddenly and overwhelmingly conscious of the fact that she hadn’t had a proper wash or changed her clothes in more than a week, and her skin crawled at the thought.

Jing Yun had slid away from the group at some point, and Zifeng was surveying the broad street in front of them with that impassive expression that Marin knew meant he was feeling unsure of himself and unhappy about the sensation.

“Stay here,” he said finally, turning to the group. “I shall seek out the trading houses and assistance from my family’s interests here.”

Marin had a feeling that it wouldn’t be that easy. He gave her a smile and offered his hand to her.

“Come with me,” he said, and she let him draw her into the streets of Teniaolan.

~~~~~

It didn’t take long to find the financial quarter, but instead of the bustling trade that Zifeng had expected there was an odd quiet to the broad square. Most of the buildings had been long boarded up, or seemed to be used as warehouses for odd bits and pieces.

Zifeng strode towards one of the few buildings showing signs of life and they entered the door under a grubby blue and gold sign that claimed it was a draft bank. Inside, dust motes drifted through the air to the quiet clink of coins. The clerk on duty raised one eyebrow as Zifeng and Marin approached him, and folded his hands over the ledger in front of him.

“How may I be of service?” the man asked drily, sounding as if he doubted that Zifeng could afford any service he might provide.“You may tell me where I might find the trading houses that deal with Hongnan or Qudong,” Zifeng said, annoyed by the man’s insolence. His chin snapped up as the man began to laugh. The Zhao blood in his veins, and a lifetime of facing his father, turned Zifeng’s spine to steel and his face to stone.

“Young sir, Beijia hasn’t traded with Hongnan or Qudong in many years.”

“Surely there has been some trade outside Beijia,” Zifeng suggested coldly. “Any merchant who has passed through Hongnan will know the house of Zhao. I have urgent need of their assistance.”

“The pass into Qudong collapsed forty years ago. We’ve seen no hide nor hair of anyone from there or beyond in all that time, and no one gets through the deserts of Xilang to the west. Any trade we do is with our own farmers and makers. How is it you aren’t aware of this?”

His sharp gaze ran from head to toe over Zifeng and Marin, and Zifeng became excruciatingly aware of every dust mark, stain and tear as the man took in the details of their Hongnan garb.

“I have need of funds and means of travel. Our mission is urgent, and my family would reward you well for your aid,” Zifeng persisted.

“You must be joking,” the clerk said shortly.

“Summon your master and let me speak with him.”

The man shook his head.

“Kid, you’re a long way from home,” the clerk said, and dropped his gaze to the columns of numbers in front of him, dismissing them from his attention. Marin’s hand on his arm drew him away gently, and Zifeng didn’t resist.

He moved stiffly, barely aware of where they were as they moved through the wider streets full of people and noise that jarred on him. Marin turned them down smaller lanes, and her hand on his arm was a silent, soothing presence, but one gaggle of aggravatingly crude men seemed to be following them, laughing and jostling and swearing. Zifeng found himself tensing.

In the unfamiliar streets, Zifeng didn’t realise that they were boxed in until they came upon the second group closing in on them from the other end of the narrow alleyway. Drawing his sword with scraping sound of steel, Zifeng angled himself and backed up until he stood protectively in front of Marin with the wall behind her. A swift glance saw three men approaching from each end of the alley, laughing and toying with their weapons in a manner that he supposed was meant to be intimidating.

Zifeng assessed them coldly, and before any of them had even a chance to realise what was going on his sword had struck down the first two. The remaining four drew back, until the one who seemed to be the leader shouted at them to get on with it!

Zifeng’s sword was a blur of silver edged with red fire in the dim alleyway, and another one fell, and another. After the frustrations of the past few hours, it felt good to be able to focus on the sharp clarity of a proper fight, and he felt his forehead burn with the mark of Tamahome as he cut down a third ruffian. Behind him, he heard a _thwack_ , and the thug who had been trying to creep up behind him staggered back, cursing. Zifeng turned and finished him with one precise sweep of his blade, to find Marin wielding one of her shoes.

“In future, I am not going out without my knife,” she said, disgruntled. “Daisuke was right.”

The last man was fleeing with terrified yells, and Zifeng let him go. Marin leaned against the wall to slide her shoe back on, and by the time she was done Zifeng had wiped his blade and slid it back into its scabbard. He reached out a hand to assist Marin.

“Wait just a moment,” she told him. She kicked her skirts aside and crouched beside one of the bodies, and Zifeng watched with a frown as she examined the dead ruffian’s clothing. She extracted the knife from his hands, and then moved on to the next.

“What are you doing?” Zifeng asked her warily.

“I’m… aha!” Marin removed a small bag from the tunic of the leader. When she shook it, the bag jingled. “I’m removing anything that might be useful.”

“You’re stealing from the dead,” he said in distaste, and she looked up at him, flicking her dark braid back over her shoulder.

“Better that than stealing from the living who might need it and can’t afford it,” she said practically. “We’re very short of resources, and we’ve just found out that we have no access to your family’s fortune here. We still have a long journey ahead of us to find the shentsopao, and we have nine of us to feed. The coins will help, and perhaps we can sell the weapons.”

She straightened, handing him another two knives to carry, and he took them reflexively. He wasn’t sure he liked this new ruthlessness; Daisuke was proving to be a bad influence on the Priestess.

There was no sign of Daisuke or Jing Yun when they made it back to the rest of the group, and while Zifeng was sure from experience that Jing Yun would find them again when he was ready he entertained the brief and fervent wish that the outworlder was gone for good.

It was a short-lived hope. Daisuke slouched into view, and Zifeng couldn’t suppress the faint curl of his lip at the sight of the outworlder.

“Where have you been?” Marin asked.

“Finding someone who might know something about where the shentsopao is,” Daisuke said, and his expression was insufferably smug. He had everyone’s attention.

“What?” Marin was staring at him, wide-eyed.

“How?” Zifeng asked, and his scepticism was heavy. Daisuke’s lazy grin grew wider.

He said, “I did what our Priestess would have done. I followed the books.”

He was clearly enjoying the moment. “I came across a bookseller in the marketplace, and he knows a holy man who buys from him when he can, one of the last of his order left in the city. You’ll like this, Priestess, but this guy has collected up any scriptures and scrolls about Genbu and the priestesses that survived the earthquakes.” Daisuke shot Marin a sly glance. “He has a library.”

Zifeng realised, with a stab of something like jealousy, that he had never seen Marin look at him the way she was staring at Daisuke at that moment.

Daisuke gave a shrug. “Anyway, the bookseller said he could send us to the holy man in the morning, if we want. If anyone’s going to know where the shentsopao went, it’s him.”

Daisuke reached into his tunic and pulled a small, flat object out, holding it out to Marin. Zifeng was startled to see a flush creep up the outworlder’s face.

“I got you a present,” Daisuke said nonchalantly as Marin took it in her hands. Zifeng heard her breath catch as she read the cover.

“The Tales of Genbu?” she said, and looked up at Daisuke with wide eyes that narrowed as she thought of something. “You didn’t steal this did you?”

“Priestess,” Daisuke complained, one hand on his chest and all trace of discomfiture gone now. “I’m wounded. I would never steal –“ there was a teasing pause, and he added, “-from someone who couldn’t spare it. I traded for that and some paper and charcoal.”

Daisuke patted the thin stack of paper he had still tucked in the front of his tunic as Jing Yun materialised out of an alleyway nearby. The thief sauntered up to join the group as Marin asked, “For what?”

Daisuke shrugged again, and reached up to run a hand through his red hair. “For a short story I sketched. The Amazing Adventures of the Princess Bright Star,” he said, flashing a quick grin at Meixing, who bounced a little on her toes in excitement. “The guy seemed to think he could sell it fairly easily.”

“I’m going to be famous!” Meixing sighed happily.

Jing Yun tossed something at Zifeng. He caught the tooled leather pouch reflexively. It jingled heavily, and Zifeng frowned.

“Where did you get this?”

“From someone who could definitely spare it,” Jing Yun said, one eyebrow lifting. “I don’t know about you, but I’m planning to have a proper meal and a wash, and sleep in a real bed tonight. If your conscience is troubling you, you’re welcome to wait here tonight, but I’ll be at the Happy Horse around the corner.”

Marin handed Jing Yun the coins and weapons that she had collected from the fallen street thugs.

“Will this help?”

Jing Yun turned over the assortment of knives and raised an eyebrow. “I think I can do something with these. I should be able to find someone who’s willing to buy or trade them. Nice work.”

“Zifeng did most of the actual work,” Marin said, her cheeks dimpling with a tiny smile, and Zifeng didn’t know whether to feel elated by her praise or displeased over the ransacking of the thugs’ belongings. “The guys who attacked us didn’t know what hit them.”

In the end, Zifeng silenced his qualms with the thought that his Priestess needed care and rest, and the tiny voice at the back of his mind whispering that he would kill for the chance to be clean again was easily suppressed. He said nothing further as Jing Yun led them back to the guest house that he’d found.

~~~~~

The visit to the tiny little bathhouse and a night’s sleep in a bed that didn’t involve rocks or a rocking bunk was a revelation, but it didn’t make it easy for Daisuke to pull himself out of bed when dawn first filtered through the slats of the shutters. When Jing Yun tossed him an armful of clothes and a leather bag he fumbled the catch and ended up with a mouthful of rough blue wool.

“Thanks?” he said dubiously. He shook it out and found an overcoat and trousers. A wide sash slithered to the ground. It all looked shabby but in good condition, and, more importantly, it didn’t smell as if he’d been wearing it for days on end.

“I got clothes for all of us from a rag trader in the market. Water bags too, and blankets,” Jing Yun explained. Zifeng was buckling his sword over the faded bone-coloured coat that swept the tops of his boots. “But it hasn’t left us with much in the way of resources. If we’re going to be in Teniaolan much longer I’ll have to find another way to make money.”

Daisuke shrugged his coat over the loose shirt and trousers, and it settled heavily around him as he wrapped the panel edged in stiffly embroidered bands across his chest and buttoned it closed at neck and shoulder. He wound the dark sash inexpertly around his waist, and tucked his daggers into the sash. He shoved everything else into the leather bag.

“I am hopeful that we will find what we need today, and that we can be on our way before nightfall,” Zifeng deliberated. “If not, we can consider our options then.”

The landlady brought them mutton-filled dumplings, and bowls of milky tea that tasted oddly salty. Daisuke pulled a face, but drank it anyway, and he snagged one last dumpling as they all made their way out into the street. Daisuke led them through the winding alleys and over the broken cracks in the streets, into the early morning noise of the market he’d found the previous day. They ducked under awnings and around stacks of baskets, until Daisuke found the bookseller, his scrolls and teetering piles of books spread out on an old blanket in front of his stall. The old man recognised him at once.

“Hoy! It’s Firehair!” he shouted jovially, his arms sweeping wide. “Didn’t I tell you I’d sell your princess adventures?”

He slapped Daisuke on the back, and beamed impartially at the group behind him.

“Still looking for someone to tell you about gods and priestesses? You draw it like you did the other one, and I’ll take it off your hands.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Daisuke grinned back at the old man.

The old bookseller turned and yelled, “Hoy! Altan!” and a skinny young boy wriggled through the gap in the tent stall, his dark eyes taking in the group of strangers. “Take my friends here to holy Danzin.”

The boy stared at him, and the old man flipped his hand to shoo him along.

“Well, go on with you. And good fortune on your search, Firehair. I’ll look for you if you come back this way.”

The boy darted off into the market, and they had to hurry to catch up as he dodged between all the traders and wares for sale. Occasionally, Altan would pause and glance back at them with impatience, then dart off again. Finally, he came to a stop in front of a grubby little building covered in cracked and broken carvings with strings of faded prayer flags hanging from the pillars.

The boy slid around the edge of the door and disappeared into the temple. Shortly, a tiny old man in a rust-coloured coat and worn prayer beads pushed open the door and stared down at them from the steps of the temple. He looked as though he’d been formed from crumpled old leather, and his little black eyes gleamed like friendly buttons in his weathered face.

“Come in, come in.” He beckoned quickly, shuffling aside to let them pass, and his face creased in a smile. Daisuke had the feeling that the elderly man missed nothing as he took them in.

Inside the tiny temple, incense wreathed through the dim air, casting a haze over the shrine at the back of the room. There was barely enough room for them all, and the old monk beamed at them impartially. His gaze rested for a minute on Marin, and Daisuke, then moved on.

“I am Danzin, last of this order. Altan tells me you are here looking for stories about Genbu and His priestess.” The holy man laid a gentle hand on the boy’s head. “I had the honour of meeting Genbu’s priestess many years ago, when I was a much younger man.”

“What happened to her?” Marin asked.

The elderly monk eyed her shrewdly, but all he said was, “No one knows.”

He sighed, and gestured to another door. “Come, the story goes better with tea and food.”

The young boy who had brought them to the temple rolled his eyes and darted back out into the street, clearly bored by the idea of old stories he had heard dozens of times before.

The holy man led them into another room, and while they settled themselves on the stools and cushions available, he broke a portion from a brick of compressed leaves and added it to the pot simmering over a small brazier. As the smell of the tea wafted through the room, he poured milk into the pot and scooped it up with a ladle, letting it pour back into the pot in an unhurried way. A pinch of salt was added. He strained the tea into tiny bowls, and brought them to the table, settling himself before he began.

“When the priestess came to Teniaolan, there was much rejoicing, and she and her Seishi travelled to the Shrine of Genbu in the mountains to summon the beast god. We felt the earth tremor, even at this distance, and we believed that our prayers had been answered and that the priestess had made her wishes for our safety. And, indeed, we heard news that the pass into Qudong had collapsed and the army of the east was turned back from us.”

The old man’s face worked and crumpled briefly. “And then the earth shook again, and again. Thousands died that day, and in the terrible days that followed. Genbu brought the city down, and the mountains fell on us. Then the hordes of crow demons descended to pick clean whatever was left.”

There was a long silence.

“That was some forty years ago now, when Genbu cracked the land,” the old man continued, his eyes fixed on something distant and terrible. “Many survivors left the city to return to the tents of their ancestors, and those who have remained have not had an easy time of it. Beijia has been cut off from the other countries, and you are the first to reach our shores past the beast god in all that time.”

He seemed to fold in on himself, his fingers working at the prayer beads looped around his hand. “And seven days ago the ground started shaking again. I fear what our god means to bring down on us now.”

The Seishi traded uncomfortable glances.

“What happened to the priestess?” Marin asked again, and the elderly monk focused on her with some effort.

“No one knows. We never saw her, or her Seishi, again. I fear you have a hard and dangerous journey ahead of you if you and your Suzaku Seishi plan to follow in her footsteps.” “No one knows. We never saw her, or her Seishi, again. I fear you have a hard and dangerous journey ahead of you if you and your Suzaku Seishi plan to follow in her footsteps.”

Daisuke heard Marin draw in a rough breath. “Then you know who we are.”

“It’s not hard to see, child, if you know what to look for,” old Danzin said gently.

“Where did she go to summon Genbu? You said they travelled to a shrine in the mountains. Where is it?”

The old man sighed and slowly got to his feet. “Best if you look for yourself.”

He made his way to another door that led into a tiny courtyard, and another small building up against the northern wall of the temple compound. They followed him, and Daisuke was caught by the soft, yearning inhalation of Marin’s breath before he saw the rows of cupboards filled with layer upon layer of books and folios and the occasional roll of bamboo strips. The paint on the cupboards was chipped and faded, but the shelves had been meticulously dusted and cared for.

“We lost most of our records in the earthquakes,” the monk was saying, but Daisuke was focused on the deep rise and fall of Marin’s chest as she inhaled the air of the library. Her eyes grew dazed and unfocused, that mouth of hers parting in a way that was doing things to him. Daisuke watched her fingers trailing over the spines of the folios as she drifted further down the aisle of open cases, pausing to tug a volume out and caress it before she carefully slid it back onto the shelf with gentle hands and a reverent sigh.

“Daisuke?”

“Hmm?” he responded vaguely.

“Daisuke!”

Daisuke startled as a hand landed on his arm, and spun around to see Jing Yun lifting an eyebrow at him.

“I have saved what I could, and tried to collect whatever I could find here, but there are gaps in our knowledge. I hope you can find what you need here,” Danzin said.

Marin wandered off into the depths of the small library, idly lifting one folio after another, stopping with a swift inhalation of awe to glance through a book that looked as though it had been pulled out of a fire. The rest of the Seishi followed the old monk out into the temple, but Daisuke leaned back against the cupboard of books behind him.

“You really don’t have to stay here,” Marin told him when she realised he was still there, and Daisuke just shrugged. He smiled a little when he realised that she’d already forgotten his presence and lost herself in the search.

The tiny table in the middle of the library was soon covered in books and fragile scrolls.

“I wish I had access to the Records of the Four Gods,” Marin muttered at the untidy pile in front of her, “instead of trying to cobble together a coherent history from all these bits and pieces.”

“You know you love it,” Daisuke told her, but she didn’t seem to hear him.

Marin propped her elbows on the edge of the table, turning pages and skimming through the spidery script, while Daisuke rolled his shoulders and shifted restlessly. Eventually, he pulled out one of the loose sheets of paper he’d bargained for with the bookseller, and lost himself in idly sketching Marin’s shifting expressions.

“I’ve found something,” Marin announced, and the sound was jarring in the muffled silence of the room. “This is kind of creepy.”

Daisuke looked up from his drawings. “What’s up?”

Marin pointed at the text in front of her, and Daisuke could see that her finger was shaking slightly.

“I know that name. Tomoe was a famous missing person case about eighteen or nineteen years ago, not long before I was born,” Marin said.

“How do you know about her?”

“She was the head girl at my school when she went missing. It’s one of those stories that gets told to all the new girls. You know, ‘watch out or the ghost of Tomoe Higarashi will get you’. That sort of thing. I paid attention because of the year she disappeared.”

“Into the Universe of the Four Gods Sky and Earth, apparently,” Daisuke said drily.

“Tomoe didn’t make it home, and no one here ever saw her again after she summoned Genbu. What happened to her?”

Marin was looking at him with those beautiful dark eyes edged with a buried unease, her braid unravelling in messy wisps of hair around her face like smoke. She was trying so hard to keep her calm, to think her way through this, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss away that spooked look in her eyes and tell her it was going to be okay.

“You’re going to come back,” he told her. “Mama did, and Aunt Yui did. You’re going to come home with me.”

“Tomoe is someone I know about. She went to my school. How did she end up here? How the hell did I end up here?”

“Can you think of anyone you’d trust more to find a way to stop the end of the world?” he asked, and Marin grimaced.

“That’s not helping. Maybe it was just pure chance that I was the first… inexperienced… girl to open the book.”

“Not bloody likely,” Daisuke said. “Look, I have no idea why I found the book, but I can take a pretty good guess at why Suzaku chose you.”

“Maybe it should have been my sister. She makes falling in love look so easy, and I’ve never even kissed someone.” Daisuke squashed down the question _Not even Zifeng?_ before he could ask it. “Maybe that’s why Suzaku didn’t appear. I’m just not the right priestess for a god of love and passion.”

“Are you kidding?” Daisuke said incredulously, and waved a hand at the library around them. “I’ve seen the way you look at a shelf full of books. He chose you because you’re passionate and brilliant and a force of nature, and because He’d have to be crazy to settle for anyone less as His Priestess. Even a god can’t resist you. What chance do we poor mortals have?” He trailed off, his mouth going dry as he realised he’d just given away far more than he’d meant to, and Marin was staring at him when Xuelian called to her from the doorway.

“Marin! Have you found what you need yet? It’s midday, and you need to eat.”

Marin jolted out of her abstraction, and Daisuke pushed himself to his feet as she called back. He brushed past Xuelian, and the doctor must have seen something in his face, or Marin’s, because her eyes narrowed at him.

“What have you been saying to Marin?” she asked distrustfully, and Daisuke raised a supercilious eyebrow.

“What makes you think I’ve been saying anything?”

Xuelian caught at his arm. “She belongs with Zifeng. They’re destined to be together. You can’t come between them,” she hissed at him.

“Do you think I would care about any of that if Marin wanted me?” Daisuke hissed back. “Don’t worry, though, you’re safe.” He twitched his arm free and stalked out.

He stayed away from the temple’s book room after that, and it was late afternoon before Marin emerged with tired eyes and a jubilant smile replacing her earlier fear, and the location of the Temple where Genbu’s priestess had planned to summon the beast god.

They had one more night at the Happy Horse Guest House, and Daisuke stayed out of the chatter over the bowls of mutton and noodles, and dried cakes of salty cheese. He knew that tomorrow he would regret not eating while he had the chance, but his appetite was nonexistent as he watched Marin laughing with Meixing and Xuelian about something, and smiling up at Zifeng as he passed her another bowl of noodles.

They looked so perfect together, the impeccable swordsman of noble lineage and the divine priestess. They were something straight out of a fairytale. Then Marin’s gaze shifted and her dark eyes fringed in black lashes met Daisuke’s with a direct look of challenge that set her face ablaze with something more – _fierce, brilliant, breathtaking_ \- and Daisuke accepted his fate. He was hers.

Zifeng said something, and Marin turned away. Her lashes dropped, veiling her eyes, and once again she was cool and untouchable, and committed to another man.

Of all the girls in all the multitude of possible worlds, and he had to fall in love with this one.


	10. The Black Mountain

# The Black Mountain

Cumulonimbus cloud circulating in the blue sky

The view of the universe into a trance in my eyes

Sun and drops of rain twinkling

The black thunder of the springing blue sky, black thunder

[Black Thunder: The Hu]

Tomoe Higarashi hadn’t made it back home.

In the library, Marin found herself turning to Daisuke, and his casual certainty grounded her, the warmth in his hazel eyes keeping the sudden shivering at bay. Daisuke was the living proof that at least some of the priestesses returned alive, even if Tomoe was the evidence that some didn’t.

By the time they’d all returned to the guest house she’d recovered her equilibrium enough to smile and join in the laughing conversation around her. And when she found Daisuke’s eyes on her she met them with a teasing challenge of her own.

But the dreams that night were bad, and Marin was almost relieved to be jolted out of a nightmare of being engulfed in flames when Xuelian shook her awake before dawn.

Marin yawned, heavy-eyed with the cobwebs of the nightmares clinging to her, as she overlapped the front of her burgundy woollen coat and buttoned it at the shoulder. Her leather satchel and water bags hung heavy at her hip as they made their way through the streets to the northern gate of Teniaolan.

It was just after dawn when they passed under the arch of the city walls and into the cluster of tents lining the dusty road. Chickens scurried across their path and women were already bending over cooking fires and baskets of washing in the cold morning air as the sky overhead brightened from rose and gold into a hard turquoise blue.

Worn stone tortoises guarded each side of the road as they passed, solid and stoic and massive, and Marin stared at them, trying to make out the carvings so blurred by time that they were almost featureless. Then the road ahead of them curved up into the hills that surrounded the plains of Teniaolan, and the city was lost to view.

The air was thin and clear and cold in their lungs as they climbed higher. Every so often they passed stone mounds surmounted by a stark wooden post reaching to heaven with animal skulls watching them blankly from the four compass points of the base and Marin felt an odd shiver run through her. There was a quality of watchful silence in mountains the further up they went, and flurries of snow began to drift down around them, driving the cold through even the layers of woollen clothing that Marin was wearing.

Three days of climbing and three nights on rough ground wrapped in the blankets Jing Yun had bought in Teniaolan and wearing every scrap of clothing they had for what little warmth they could get made for tense and silent travelling that was only broken by the deep rumbling of the earth tremors that sent pieces of the mountain crashing past them. Watchful nights, and waking up with a thin layer of snow over everything and breath that turned to ice, didn’t help.

“Without Genbu to hold it together, the land is breaking apart,” Zifeng shouted over the noise of another avalanche of rocks as they all flattened themselves against the mountain.

It almost looked like Daisuke flinched, but then he bared his teeth in a sharp grin at Zifeng.

“Next time I’ll let the god eat you all, shall I?”

On the fourth day, they reached a cave under the peak of the Black Mountain, a dark maw half-hidden by the fierce white wind that swept around them and the broken remnants of two huge doors. There was an uneasy murmur from some of the Seishi, but when Daisuke pushed his way into the black opening of the cave they all followed. It was a relief to be out of the wind, at least, and Meixing unravelled the strips of cloth she’d wrapped around her hands so that she could light up the darkness. As the princess turned slowly to look around her, Marin followed the path of the light.

The cave was huge, a natural formation that had never been smoothed out by human hands, and when Marin tilted her head she looked up into the teeth of ancient stalactites and the shadowy roof of the cave that could barely be seen far above her. There was no polished wooden shrine here, but at the far northern end of the cave Marin could make out a huge, crudely carved lump of stone in the rough form of a tortoise that looked as though it had been there since the dawn of time. As she walked cautiously towards it, she could make out the signs of destruction all around it, and the broken wreckage of stalactites ripped from the roof of the cave. Something had torn up the cave with a monstrous savagery.

“What on earth happened here?” she asked in awe.

Zhu Yi used the butt of his bow to poke at the squat, crude statue of the tortoise with a snake coiled around its middle. The snake’s broken head was lying some distance away, and the stone shell of the tortoise was cracked in half.

“Look at the limestone growth on Genbu’s statue. It’s been like this for a long time.”

Zhu Yi swung the bow in an arc, following a deep, worn furrow that curved through the site. It looked like something vast had swept the temple and flung the heavy stonework out of its path, but the stone edges were smoothed and overgrown.

“Does that look like snake scales to you?” Zhu Yi asked, pointing at a pattern set into the path of destruction. “Because I’m guessing that this happened about forty years ago, and that Genbu flattened the shrine when He was summoned.”

“But why?” Marin asked incredulously, staring around with widened eyes. “Why on earth would He destroy His own temple?”

In the wreckage, Marin caught a flicker of gold as Meixing’s light shone on something buried in the cleft of the tortoise shell. She bent to pick it up, tugging it free, and found herself holding a tarnished gold locket, the chain tangling around her fingers. It prickled with power in her hands.

It was quite a big locket, about the size of a walnut, and when Marin carefully prised open the catch there was a pair of photos inside. One was a girl her own age in the same school uniform that Marin wore, and Marin sucked in a steadying breath of air at the sight. The other was a young man who seemed wildly out of place in anything as anachronous as a photograph. His image regarded the photographer with an amused wariness, and Marin felt certain that he was one of the Genbu Seishi. She was even more certain that Tomoe had been in love with the young man in her locket.

Marin closed the locket with a snap, and swallowed harshly.

“I have the shentsopao,” she told them.

~~~~~

Marin had hung the locket around her neck for safekeeping, and on the long trek down the mountain she found herself fidgeting with it, tugging it out to flick it open and stare at the two faces inside.

Daisuke caught at her arm as she skidded on a loose patch of gravel and nearly tumbled headlong down the mountain.

“Careful there, Priestess,” he said. She righted herself, and his hand fell away slowly. He nodded at the locket. “Is that Genbu’s priestess?”

“Tomoe Higarashi,” she confirmed. “And the boy was the Celestial Warrior Uruki.”

Daisuke tilted an oddly serious look at her. “This is bothering you, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t bother you?” Marin clicked the locket shut. “She was our age. She was the captain at my school.”

“Like you,” Daisuke’s voice was soft with understanding.

“And no one even knew where she’d gone, or what had happened. Just like they won’t know what happens to me if I can’t get us home.”

“There are a couple of big differences, though,” Daisuke told her. She raised an eyebrow. “She’s not you. And she didn’t have me.”

Marin couldn’t help laughing. “How do you manage to fit through doors with an ego that large?”

“It’s not as big as my -“

“Marin!” Zifeng called imperiously, and Marin tucked the locket away. She was still smiling as she moved to join Zifeng.

“It’s okay, Your Lordship!” Daisuke shouted back. “Her virtue is intact, in spite of my big ego.”

The glare Marin shot over her shoulder at Daisuke should have incinerated him, but the annoying bastard just grinned at her.

When they camped for the night, Marin pulled off her boots in spite of the chill and rubbed her feet. She’d gone beyond blisters after months of travelling - first trekking all over Hongnan to find her Seishi, and then, after the failed ceremony, journeying here to Beijia – and her feet were developing calluses. She decided that she’d kill for a proper shower and a chance to wash her hair.

“When all this is done, I never want to walk another step in my life,” Marin grumbled. “Maybe I’ll make that one of my wishes – I want a sedan chair and four gorgeous, muscular guys to carry me everywhere.”

She heard a snort of laughter from somewhere behind her, and caught the look that Zifeng was giving her. She sighed.

“It was a joke.”

Coming down from the towering peak of the Black Mountain into the foothills below, they started to come across clusters of yurts again, and Marin looked out for them eagerly because they meant families and herders that would trade cheese and meat dumplings for the peaches that Tian Zhen grew from peach pits that he’d carefully horded. Anything was a welcome relief from the thin game stew they’d become used to.

Marin could tell they were getting closer to the border between Beijia and Xilang when the narrow road flattened out into broad, grassy plains. The cold, dry air of the mountains became hotter, baking the moisture out of Marin’s mouth, and the scrubby gravel dissolved into sand which slowly swallowed the road under their feet. Halfway through another day’s walking, when Marin turned to glance over her shoulder all she could see was rolling waves of sand behind them.

They were in the unforgiving deserts of Xilang now.


	11. Desert Sands

# Desert Sands

I dream of rain

I dream of gardens in the desert sand

I wake in vain

I dream of love as time runs through my hand

[Desert Rose: Sting]

Daisuke could see the others becoming flushed as the sun rose higher in the brilliant sky. Meixing had taken one of the blankets from her pack and draped it over her head, and Marin copied her. Finally the road gave out and they found themselves fighting their way over wave upon wave of dunes that stretched out into forever.

Every so often, Zhang Yong would stop and plant his staff in the sand, fiddling around with rocks and the shadow cast by his staff for a few minutes.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Daisuke asked. “I can’t see any path or any way of telling if we’re completely lost or not.”

Zhang Yong glanced up at the sun, and down at the shadows of the dunes in front of them.

“Tai Yi Jun told me to keep heading south-west once we crossed into Xilang -”

“We’re definitely lost,” Daisuke muttered under his breath, glancing around at the featureless waves of sand around them.

“- So I’m using the shadow of my staff to take the direction,” Zhang Yong finished, shooting Daisuke a black look.

“Fine, but if we’re lost, I’m blaming you.”

“Daisuke.” Marin’s voice was a soft warning, and he grimaced.

“Sorry,” he said to the young monk, but Zhang Yong just glared at him and strode awkwardly down the other side of the sandy ridge.

The hot breath of the desert wind snarled over the dunes, and Zifeng had just raised his hand to signal a stop when Daisuke thought he saw something ghosting over the sand in the distance. He blinked. It was still there, racing towards them with impossible speed.

At his wordless yell, they all turned swiftly just as the huge white tiger crested the wave of sand. Its eyes fixed on him, a growl rumbling through the dunes beneath their feet. Daisuke backed up without taking his eyes off the beast, drawing it away from Marin and the rest of the group. It wheeled to follow him.

“Zifeng,” he said quietly, trying to stay calm, “get everyone back.”

If he could just keep the beast focused on him, following him and not Marin...

He reached for the weapons resting at his sides, and carefully slid them free, his eyes still on the huge tiger as it crouched, its golden eyes measuring him with predatory intensity.

“You can’t kill it!” Marin yelled at him, and Daisuke spared a glance to flash a daredevil grin at her.

“Sure I can.”

He heard her mutter loudly, “Idiot.”

“I mean,” she shouted back at him, “you shouldn’t! That’s _Byakko_! Do you have any idea what will happen if you kill another god?”

Daisuke sighed, and sheathed his daggers. “I know, I know, I’ll be careful to play nice with the enormous kitty god. Or would you rather I let it eat you?”

The air shivered with Byakko’s low, savage growl. The only warning Daisuke had was the slight bunching of powerful muscles.

It sprang.

Daisuke pivoted and rolled under the huge beast, coming up with a hiss of pain. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the torn edges of his coat and the blood seeping through where Byakko’s claws had caught him. It landed and turned on him. One quick glance made sure that Marin and the Seishi were moving back. He fixed his eyes on the tiger again.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he taunted. This time he was ready for the lunge, and he moved faster out of reach of those deadly claws and teeth. Byakko skidded in the tumbling sand dunes and Daisuke felt low, lethal snarl rumble up through the ground. The massive white cat stalked towards him, one careful paw after another, and Daisuke backed up slowly without taking his eyes off Byakko. If he could just keep the beast god’s attention fixed on him…

He saw the moment when a bottomless black void swallowed the gold in the god’s eyes and stared back at him, and it felt as though the blood had turned to ice in his veins. It froze his limbs, and that would have been his last moment if Marin hadn’t shouted.

Byakko’s ears twitched, and that terrifying emptiness was gone. The beast’s huge head was already swinging around to this new quarry and the snarl vibrated, growing more powerful. His tail lashed as He turned and launched at the Seishi. At Marin.

Daisuke gave a shout and threw himself at the beast. He had no thought in that moment for what he’d do if he managed to grab the tiger, but Byakko sailed over his head and came down, scattering the Seishi like a flock of pigeons.

The only thing Daisuke heard was Marin’s scream and the rip of tearing cloth. He only saw the tiny splash of red on the sand as Zifeng swung her behind him, and the brighter red flash of Seishi powers. He was already running when he caught a flare of reflected light and a gut-wrenching yowl as the giant cat seemed to twist back on itself, caught by some unseen force.

Daisuke risked a quick glance to see Zhang Yong with his feet braced and the bronze mirror in his outthrust hands. Byakko landed with a roar that started the dunes collapsing in a tide of sand that nearly yanked Daisuke’s feet out from under him. Again, the tiger lunged and was wrenched back as the mirror flashed again in the harsh desert light. Byakko whipped His tail in a fury, and backed away, still snarling.

Taking a cautious step backwards, Daisuke raised hands that were shaking slightly.

“You couldn’t have done that trick with the mirror before the kitty god turned me into noughts and crosses?” he asked over the rush of sand.

The look that Zhang Yong shot him suggested that he would have happily fed Daisuke to the tiger himself. The boy shoved that bronze hand mirror of his back into his tunic.

“Tai Yi Jun’s intervention won’t discourage Byakko for long!” Zhang Yong shouted over the rising noise.

With a strange twist of the air, Byakko exploded, shattering into a hot, dry wind that raced away over the sand dunes into the distance and spiralled back, lashing eddies of sand in its wake. The horizon disappeared in a hissing roar of sand and wind that swept towards them over the dunes with frightening speed.

“Sandstorm!” Zhu Yi shouted over the deafening noise.

There was no time to run. Zifeng pulled Marin down to the ground beside him, sweeping his loose sleeve over her in some form of protection. Daisuke saw his companions drop into defensive crouches, and as he followed them, he saw Zhang Yong thrust his staff towards the winds as the sand broke around them.

Daisuke couldn’t hear anything but the relentless roar and hiss of the sandstorm, and when he glanced up, Zhang Yong was still standing over them, his arms outstretched. They were safe in a glass-like bubble in the middle of the sandstorm, the winds ripping around them with malevolent force but unable to touch the group as Zhang Yong held the storm at bay. It went on and on, and Daisuke could see the young monk’s arms beginning to shake.

And then, as suddenly as it had swept over them, the winds dropped and the sand settled out of the thick, murky air. Zhang Yong waited, trembling with exhaustion, until they could see clearly again, and then he collapsed.

The air around them popped like a soap bubble, and the sand that had built up against the invisible walls of Zhang Yong’s protection collapsed in on them with a soft hiss, like a broken sand timer. Daisuke shook the grit out of his clothing and stood.

Without a word, they all tipped sand out of boots, and clothes, and hair, shouldered their packs and started off again before the White Tiger could throw anything else at them. For the next few days, every slight breeze that ruffled the dunes, or tiny cascade of sand, had them flinching. They got used to sleeping briefly and waking up in the freezing, eerie light of predawn, feeling stripped dry and abraded, to start walking the moment that sunrise pointed the way across the dunes.

Their water skins were down to the last few drops, and when they stopped Tian Zhen crouched down, half-kneeling, and pressed one hand flat to the sand. The muscles in his shoulders tensed, and he breathed out, slowly lifting his hand. There was a tiny sprout of green under his fingers, and as he lifted his hand it grew. Tian Zhen came to his feet, drawing the sprout into a sapling into a small tree, and the tree put forth branches, leaves unfurling, buds swelling and blooming and bulging into ripe fruit as Tian Zhen staggered. Jing Yun and Meixing caught him, lowering him down to sit while his tiny tree bent with the weight of the apples.

While Meixing hovered anxiously, Tian Zhen gave her an exhausted smile.

“I’ll be alright in a moment,” he told her gently. “It just takes a lot to grow anything with so little to work with.”

The apples were tiny and woody, but the tart juice was enough to cut through the dryness in Daisuke’s throat.

“It won’t survive here,” Tian Zhen said bleakly, his eyes on the apple tree. When they moved on, leaving it forlorn in the arid dunes, the leaves were already curling and drooping in the relentless heat.

“Are we getting close?” Daisuke heard Marin ask Zhang Yong quietly. “Has Tai Yi Jun given you any hint about how much further we need to travel?”

“We’re not far off now. We should reach the city of Erduo any moment now,” the boy said confidently, but Daisuke could see the anxiety in his eyes as he glanced back the way they had come. They kept wading through the endless sand, and Daisuke’s muscles screamed and ached in protest as he pulled his boot free and sank back into the shifting dune with every step.

“I’ve got sand in parts of me that I didn’t know existed,” Daisuke grumbled. “And we haven’t seen any sign of life for days, except for that damn cat. How are we supposed to- Whoa!”

As they crested yet another dune, the ground dropped away in front of them in a massive sandstone cliff, down into dazzling green that almost hurt the eyes after the endless gold and harsh blue of the sand and sky. Daisuke wasn’t the only one to come to a stop, blinking, at the vision below them.

The day wore on as they skirted the edge of the plateau above the city, until finally they found a road, half-buried by sand. It led down the cliff face, twisting back and forth as it went, and they descended with it until the roofs of the rough-hewn sandstone buildings rose over them. Up close, the impression Daisuke had had of a rich and verdant city was altered. He could see the creeping line of dead fruit trees and vines, where the desert had taken back the land. Buildings lay empty and broken and buried in sand, and there was an odd atmosphere as they moved through streets that should have been noisy and full of life.

Things changed a little as they drew closer into the centre of the city. People bustled through the streets, or lounged in open doorways, and children scurried underfoot, but there was a restlessness that hadn’t been there in Teniaolan. Daisuke saw it in the way that the noise would drop abruptly with every unusual sound, or every shadow that flitted across the sun drenched streets.

At the distant sound of crows, people turned in watchful dismay to scan the skies, and mothers swept into the streets to gather children close. Zifeng held up a hand for them to halt, and they clustered in the shade cast by a nearby alley until the crows veered away from the city and the locals around them went back to their business.

The marketplace at the heart of the city wasn’t hard to find. Meixing danced a little on the spot at the sight, and darted towards the nearest stall with Tian Zhen following more sedately behind her. The rest of the group caught up with them as Meixing was reaching out to examine a piece of fruit with interest, but the shopgirl’s welcoming smile faded into something that looked like fear as they drew close. Without a word, she spun on her heel and disappeared in a flicker of braids behind the rug draped across the back of the tent. A moment later, the rug twitched aside, and an older man strode out, his face darkening as his gaze swept over them.

“Who are you?” he asked abruptly, and Meixing froze with a plum in her hands. Zifeng stepped up.

“We are simply visitors to the city, looking to buy food and supplies,” he said with calm authority, but the shopkeeper’s frown deepened.

“There have been no visitors here for the past five years. How did you cross the desert?”

Heads were turning and a crowd was starting to gather, bodies pressing a little too closely around them. Marin was suddenly very conscious of just how out of place they all were, in the heavy coats of Beijia and gritty with dirt and sand from the journey.

“Demon spawn!” someone shouted, and other faces were turning towards them.

She backed up a step, and Zifeng’s arm lifted protectively. As the crowd around them drew closer, eyes wary and suspicious, she heard the thump of boots and the jingle of weapons approaching over the muttering of the onlookers.

Zifeng backed them all up a step, his other hand on his sword hilt.

The city guards shoved a path towards them, and Jing Yun yelled, “Grab hands!”

An instant later, as Meixing caught Marin’s hand on one side and Daisuke’s hand met hers on the other, they all vanished from sight.

The shouts swelled and roared from the crowd as Jing Yun dragged them out of reach before someone could think to test the empty space. Marin found herself tugged into an empty alleyway in an invisible chain.

Over the rising chaos of the marketplace behind them, Marin could hear a voice shouting on a rising note of fanatical fervour, “The demons walk among us! The god Byakko has withdrawn His favour, and swallows our villages and towns whole. Soon, we will all be gone!”

They made it four streets back before Jing Yun dropped hands and invisibility, collapsing against a wall. He was breathing hard, and Zhu Yi flung an arm around him before he could fall.

“That’s never fun,” Jing Yun muttered, leaning into the archer. He clutched a hand to his head and groaned. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Zifeng said, “We need to get out of sight before we’re found.”

A quick survey of the buildings around them, and Zifeng pivoted to shove open a door that was half-hanging in its frame, holding up a hand to keep them from following. A moment later, and he was back, ushering them inside.

The house had clearly been empty for a long time. Sand piled up in drifts across the floor, and cobwebs hung in swathes from the corners of the ceiling. Anything moveable had long since been removed or picked clean, and the rough fireplace was bare of anything but a scattering of old ash.

“It will do,” Zifeng decided, but Marin could see the way he fastidiously avoided contact with all the filthy surfaces and flinched at the brush of a web across his face. Zhu Yi lowered Jing Yun to the floor with a tiny frown as he looked over the thief’s pale face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Jing Yun mustered a smile.

“You could kiss it better,” Jing Yun suggested lightly. Zhu Yi cracked a quick smile and stood, with a shake of his head. His hand landed briefly on Jing Yun’s shoulder.

“You’re fine,” he told the thief as he moved away, and Marin didn’t think he heard Jing Yun’s faint sigh.

Meixing threw herself down into a corner, heedless of the dirt.

“I’m so _hungry_ ,” she complained, and the princess sounded close to tears after the mob in the marketplace. “And there’s no water left.”

Daisuke pulled an apple out of his tunic that he must have stolen from the market, and presented it to Meixing with a flourish.

“Daisuke!” the princess gasped and sat up, the tears drying like magic as she clutched at the fruit. “You shouldn’t have!”

“Of course I should have. Don’t want my favourite princess wasting away from starvation,” he grinned.

Marin watched Daisuke coaxing a smile out of her. It was obvious, once she was looking closely, how careful and sweet he was being with Meixing. He showered her with outrageous compliments and gentle teasing, but never too much, never too close, and none of that unsettling flirting that he seemed to save to throw Marin off balance. Marin heard Meixing giggle at something Daisuke said, and she smiled.

It wasn’t hard to understand why Meixing had developed a crush on Daisuke.

His hazel eyes met hers over Meixing’s head.

“Marin? Are you alright?” Xuelian asked, and Marin jolted. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Marin brushed off her concern with a quick gesture and a constrained smile, and turned back to Zifeng.

“What are we going to do next?” Marin asked. “We need water, and we need food, but if we can’t go out there without being mobbed -“

“Perhaps if I alone go into the markets I may escape detection,” Zifeng proposed. “I can seek information about the location of the shentsopao. Even if the links between the countries are tenuous now, I still have family and connections in Erduo that I can call on.”

“Where’s Jing Yun?” Xuelian asked, and Zifeng turned, his mouth thinning to a disapproving line as he looked over the room and the rest of the Seishi who were making themselves comfortable on the floor or their blanket rolls. But the thief was gone.

Zhu Yi said, “He won’t have gone far. He’s probably just looking for food and water.”

“He’ll bring the city guard down on us,” Zifeng said tightly.

“If any of us can get around them, it’ll be Jing Yun,” Marin reminded him, but she didn’t have the energy left to argue about it, and when Zifeng strode towards the door she didn’t try to stop him.

“Stay here,” Zifeng snapped. “I want everyone to remain here until we know what we are dealing with.”

~~~~~

Daisuke shook his head when Zifeng left. Zhang Yong took the opportunity to roll himself in his blanket and attempt to sleep, and Zhu Yi looked up from the game of dice he was in the middle of with Tian Zhen, his eyes going to the door as Jing Yun finally slid back inside. The thief’s arms were full of clothes and boots, and a ceramic jar full of water dangled by its handle from one finger.

Meixing scrambled across the floor to relieve him of the jar, and took a huge swig straight from it with a sigh of relief before she passed it Xuelian.

“Where’s His Lordship?” Jing Yun asked, dumping everything else on the sandy floor except for a gauzy jumble of dresses which he threw into Marin’s lap. “I found you something a bit lighter to wear than those wool coats.”

Marin held up a scarlet bodice embroidered in blue and gold, and passed a green dress and a flamboyantly coloured one to Xuelian and Meixing.

“Zifeng’s out looking for you,” she said.

Jing Yun shook his head and unfastened the collar of his heavy coat. “Well, I’m not going looking for him looking for me.” He tugged his shirt over his head, dropping it next to the pile of cloth. He pulled on a pair of scuffed boots over the loose white trousers of the locals, then he straightened.

“Anyone want to go for a bit of a walk?” Jing Yun asked slyly. Zhu Yi shook his head and turned back to the dice, but Daisuke grinned back at the thief.

“I do feel the need for a little exercise,” Daisuke said innocently. Jing Yun tossed Daisuke a long vest from the pile of clothes beside him, and Daisuke caught it.

“I don’t like the look of things here. Something’s not right, and I want to find out what’s going on before we go looking for the shentsopao. We need to know where it’s being kept, and judging from the reaction we had in the markets, we can’t just march up and ask someone.”

“You know this is a bad idea,” Xuelian said dispassionately. “Zifeng won’t be pleased when he finds out what you’re up to.”

“That’s reason enough for me,” Daisuke said. He quickly pulled on the second set of clothes that Jing Yun had managed to acquire, tugging everything into place.

“Wait a minute,” Marin commanded, and he froze guiltily. “You should probably do something about your hair. It stands out.”

Daisuke lifted an eyebrow when she set aside the dress and grabbed a handful of ash from the old fireplace in the middle of the room.

“What, no lecture about how this is a dangerous idea, or we should wait for His Lordship to come up with a plan?” he asked curiously.

“I need to know what’s going on, and you’ll tell me without editing out stuff for my own good. Now, hold still.”

Marin dumped the ash on his hair with what felt like unnecessary vigour.

“Ow!”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby.”

He gave in, closing his eyes and leaning in to the touch as her sooty fingers combed through his hair, until Marin stepped back and eyed him critically.

“How do I look?” he asked with a grin.

“Disreputable,” she said drily. “Try to not get arrested.”

He swept her a bow, and Marin turned a despairing look on Jing Yun. “Please, try and keep him from doing anything too stupid.”

It was a relief to get out of the dark, musty remains of the house, and Daisuke drew a deep breath of satisfaction as they turned into the wider street towards the market. He strolled along beside Jing Yun, his hands hooked casually in the sash around his waist.

“So we’re going to ask questions?”

“No.” Jing Yun’s smile widened at Daisuke’s curious sidelong glance. “Start asking questions and everyone gets suspicious. But what most people really want, when you get right down to it, is to feel smarter than everyone else, superior, so if you want to find out what they know, you make statements and let them argue with you and correct you. Do it right, and they’ll tell you everything you want just to get one up on you. Or watch what they stay silent about, and how they react, if it’s a big enough secret.”

“Sneaky,” Daisuke said admiringly. They sauntered casually along the row of tents and stalls, pausing to look over leatherwork and pyramids of spices.

They were approaching the fruit stall that they had been chased from earlier, keeping a surreptitious eye on the stall owner as they drew closer. With every step, Jing Yun changed a little, his shoulders slouching and his face taking on a look of bored impatience that shifted the lines around his eyes. Daisuke followed. So far, there was no sign of recognition from the stall owner as he called out with a forced joviality to anyone passing.

“I’m telling you,” Jing Yun said to Daisuke, pausing to lean over the melons piled up in baskets in front of the stall. “My uncle’s friend saw them, a whole army from Qudong here in the marketplace.”

Daisuke played along, scoffing. “Your uncle’s friend has been at the wine. No one can make it through the desert with the roads gone, let alone an army.”

“It wasn’t an army,” the shopkeeper struck in. “But there were a lot of them. I saw them here myself, at this very stall, before the guards came after them.”

They turned disbelieving stares on him, and the older man puffed up at the attention.

“True as sand in the desert,” he assured them. “Maybe Qudong, maybe Hongnan, but they made it through the desert alright.”

He was drawing a small crowd now, all leaning closer to hear the gossip, and a woman standing behind Daisuke snorted.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded.

Daisuke hooked his thumbs in his sash and jerked his head towards Jing Yun.

“Well, cloth-brain here thinks they’ve come to steal Byakko’s treasure,” he told them scornfully, and there was a hiss of speculation from the onlookers close enough to hear. Daisuke caught Jing Yun’s tiny smile of appreciation.

One man scoffed. “They’d never get near it. My sister’s husband’s nephew works at the palace, and he says twenty men guard it day and night.”

“Besides, it’s locked up in the deepest dungeon in the middle of the palace.”

“Nah, the western tower, I heard,” someone else disagreed.

“Yah, it’s in the western gate tower,” the man with the sister’s husband’s nephew agreed. “And it’s not like that’d be easy to get to. One stairway, one door, twenty guards.”

They all turned to appraise the narrow towers that rose over the heart of the city like gilded spears.

“You’d have to be crazy to try to break in there. It’d be suicide,” someone announced, and there was a general murmur of agreement.

“The prince’s monster would rip out the throat of anyone who tried,” a tall, sharp-faced woman claimed with bloodthirsty enthusiasm.

“A demon,” her companion corrected. “I heard it was a demon that’ll suck the life from your bones and the blood from your veins and leave your soul to wander the earth for all eternity.”

“It’s guarded by the ghost of one of the priestess’ Seishi,” said the man with the sister’s husband’s nephew. “I saw the flute myself when they brought it in from Byakko’s temple.”

At the ripple of disbelief the man scowled. “True as sand in the desert, my sister got me in to see it before they locked it in the tower, and it was covered in an unnatural ice. I tell you, even from a distance it gave me the horrors. A thief got past the guards and managed to steal in one night. They found him in the morning frozen solid, with a look on his face like he’d lost all hope of heaven.”

The audience sucked their teeth appreciatively, and Jing Yun flashed Daisuke a quick lift of his eyebrow.

“It’s our best lead so far,” Daisuke muttered back under cover of the crowd. “Maybe if we buy this guy a drink we can get more out of him about this ghost.”

Further discussion was cut off as someone ran through the shifting crowds, leaving a trail of curses and shouts behind him. The shopkeeper seemed to know the approaching man, and frowned as he drew closer.

“They’ve caught one of the vanishing demons!”

The man panted to a halt near the fruit stall, and straightened importantly as people turned to stare.

“At the gates of the palace! I saw the demon myself – disguised as a prince with eyes that could freeze the marrow in your bones, true as sand in the desert, come to kill the king!”

Daisuke and Jing Yun melted to the back of the crowd. The exchanged glances.

“Zifeng,” Jing Yun muttered darkly.

“Fucking hell.”

“He probably thought he was being clever. Marin isn’t going to be happy about this.” Jing Yun sighed. “I suppose we’d better go and rescue His Lordship before he gets into any more trouble.”

It wasn’t hard to find Zifeng. Jing Yun and Daisuke edged their way through the throng at the palace gates until they could see the bristling circle of crescent spears all pointed at the haughty figure of the young Lord Zhao.

“Deliver my words to your king, or you will regret it,” they heard his voice carry over the chattering around them, and Daisuke sighed. He saw Jing Yun’s eyes roll.

“This isn’t going to go well, is it?” Jing Yun muttered. The thief slid further into the mass of spectators, and as Daisuke watched he saw Jing Yun circle around until he was almost at the gates, within touching distance of the guards. Daisuke heard a sharp, distant caw and glanced up to see black specks veering across the hard blue sky. A few people looked up nervously, but most of the crowd was engrossed in the street drama in front of them.

“I am the king’s cousin!” Zifeng was insisting, and the guard with a captain’s plume on his helm scowled.

“Sure you are,” the man scoffed. “Now, come along quietly or it’ll go the worse for you.”

Daisuke saw the spears swing uneasily as Zifeng’s hand closed on his sword hilt. He saw Jing Yun drop out of sight, and then, just as the crescent blade of a spear swept towards Zifeng, Daisuke saw Zifeng jerk backwards and vanish.

The watching crowd erupted into shouts and shoving, people fighting to get away from the demon crushed against people straining to get closer to see what was going on. Some were desperately making hand gestures to ward off the evil eye, and the approaching shrieks as the black shapes of tengu filled the sky above added to the terrified confusion.

There were too many people too close to the empty patch in the middle of everything where Zifeng and Jing Yun were probably still trapped by the press of the mob and the circle of frightened and angry guards.

Daisuke rolled his shoulders loose and gave a sigh. Time to play his part.

“There he is! I saw the demon!” Daisuke shouted, pointing away across the open square. He took off running. The guards and a fair number of the crowd stampeded after him as he drew them into the streets away from the palace gates. Black wings dove down over the square, scattering more of the crowd, and Daisuke sent a silent thanks that for once the arrival of the birds of ill omen was working in his favour.

He twisted and doubled back. There was still the thud of running feet behind him, but the raised voices dropped off, a little at a time, as the chase palled and the tengu drove people under cover. Judging by the metallic rattling he could still hear, the guards were still in hot pursuit, either because they believed that he was following the invisible demon or because he was a suspicious person of interest. Daisuke took a sharp turn into a narrow alley and realised too late that it was a dead end. He threw an assessing glance at the wall ahead. As the clank of weapons closed in behind him he kept going and kicked off the perpendicular wall to launch himself up and onto the roof of the building in front of him.

He glanced up to see the tengu spiralling up into the sky and peeling away to the south as they lost interest in the commotion. The confused sounds of pursuit fell away as Daisuke vaulted over the gaps between the buildings and kept running across the rooftops. It felt good after so many days and weeks of so much tedious walking to break loose, and when he finally spotted Jing Yun and Zifeng he dropped into the alley behind them with a broad grin on his face. Zifeng whipped around with his sword already in his hand. Daisuke noted that the young lord was slow to sheath his weapon again once he’d realised who had startled them.

“There’s a warm welcome,” Daisuke said, one eyebrow lifting. “And after I saved your ass, too.”

“I had everything under control. I hardly think that counts as saving my life,” Zifeng said, his back stiff with tension. Daisuke lifted a provocative eyebrow.

“What do you think they were going to do with you?”

“They were not going to summarily execute me.”

“The ravening demon from out of the desert with the scary eyes? Of course they were.”

Daisuke saw Zifeng’s jaw clench. “I am a distant cousin of the king. If you had not interfered, I would have been in a position to learn where the shentsopao is being kept, and how we can retrieve it.”

“Would that have been before or after they tortured and killed you?” Daisuke couldn’t resist saying. “Fortunately, Jing Yun and I had more luck. We know where the talisman is, and we’re reasonably sure of just how well-guarded it is. There were rumours of a supernatural guardian as well as the mortal guards, but we didn’t get a chance to confirm that before we had to come and haul you out of trouble.”

Zifeng didn’t dignify that with a response as he pushed the splintered door open.

Marin was sitting on the floor. She’d changed into the clothes Jing Yun had brought her and the gauzy, embroidered skirts of her scarlet dress flared around her while Meixing plaited her dark hair into a series of braids like the local girls. The princess had a look of intense concentration on her face, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she focused on her work.

Daisuke reached out and flipped one of Marin’s braids with his finger.

“It suits you,” he told her. “What did we miss?”

“What have you been up to?” Marin asked suspiciously.

Daisuke shot Zifeng a glance, enjoying that flash of panic in the young lord’s eyes, but all he said was, “We ran into Zifeng in the marketplace.”

“What did you find out?” she demanded.

“That’s her research face,” Daisuke said to Jing Yun as he ran his fingers through his hair to comb the remaining ash out of it. “Do you think we should tell her?”

“What do we get out of it?” Jing Yun asked, trying not to grin. “I think this should be worth at least an extra bowl of rice.”

“How about I don’t gut you where you stand?” Marin said sweetly, and Daisuke saw Zifeng frown at her bloodthirsty threat.

“We know where the shentsopao is,” Daisuke told her, grinning. Marin scrambled to her feet, brushing sand off her skirts. “The bad news is, the authorities know we’re here now, and that we’re probably interested in Byakko’s talisman, so we’re going to have to move fast to get a hold of it before they lock it down tighter.”

“What happened?” Marin asked in a voice of foreboding. “I knew it was a bad idea to send you two out on your own.”

Daisuke ignored Xuelian murmuring _I told you so_ , and shot a look at Zifeng, but all he said was, “It was unavoidable.”

“Right. Fine. Then we move tonight. So what information do we have?”

“Surely you don’t plan to undertake this task,” Zifeng said incredulously, entering the conversation. “I will take a few of us after nightfall, but you must remain here. It is too dangerous.”

Marin levelled a look at Zifeng.

“You need me with you. They’re not going to just hand over the shentsopao to anyone, and the last time a priestess collected the talismans she was tested. I need to know where it is so I can plan.”

“You are not going.”

“The shentsopao is in the west tower,” Daisuke said. He ignored the murderous look that Zifeng shot him and slid a dagger free, subjecting it to a focused and spurious inspection, and giving an imperceptible blemish on the mirror-bright surface a polish with one sleeve. “Twenty guards, and rumour is that there’s something more like a ghost or demon guarding it as well.”

“Or a monster of some kind,” Jing Yun added quietly.

Daisuke looked up from his close scrutiny of his dagger blade and quirked an eyebrow at the flurry of dismayed noises.

“What? Marin has a good point – you’re probably going to need her there to collect the shentsopao – and she’s a smart girl. She’s going to figure it out for herself if you don’t tell her what you know. She’ll be in less danger if she has all the information and help that she needs to get it done.”

He slid his dagger back into its sheath with a sharp click, and gave Marin an exaggerated bow.

“I am yours to command, Priestess.”


	12. Burning Cold

# Burning Cold

I was as pure as a river

But now I think I’m possessed

You put a fever inside me

And I’ve been cold since you left

[Haunting Me: Halsey]

Through the whole discussion about how to get at the shentsopao, Daisuke ignored the frosty looks that Zifeng kept sending his way, and his pointless attempts to get Marin to agree to stay behind. Daisuke suppressed a snort as Marin serenely disregarded Zifeng laying down the law and went back to sketching a plan of the palace and the west tower in the dirt floor. Didn’t His Lordship know any better yet?

They had the numbers of guards, they knew where it was, and he and Jing Yun had managed to learn when the guards would change and when they would be at their most distracted. There would be a certain amount of luck involved – they had to hope that the tower cohort were as unprepared for a full assault as the gossip had suggested and that they wouldn’t have responded to the rumours and Zifeng’s ill-timed appearance.

When the sun began to sink in the sky and the shadows started to lengthen, they made their way through the marketplace, splitting up to avoid drawing attention. They met up in an alley shadowed by the western wall of the palace, and Zifeng was already assessing the tower that loomed over them when Daisuke sauntered up to join them.

Smooth bands of white and green and yellow tiles wrapped around the circle of the tower’s walls. The only windows in the whole narrow structure were right at the top. Daisuke could just make them out if he tipped his head right back, and he squinted as the last light caught and glinted too brightly on the gilded cupola of the spire.

Zifeng was watching the narrow door in the western wall beside the base of the tower, and the two guards who stood on either side of it, shifting restlessly from time to time.

“Jing Yun,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the door, “I need you to get us inside. You and Zhang Yong will be with me. We can assume that we will need to attend to roughly twenty guards, without undue bloodshed. Xuelian, can I count on you to handle that?”

Zifeng glanced over his shoulder at the doctor, and she gave a swift nod. His eyes softened.

“As soon as that is accomplished, you need to withdraw. Zhu Yi, I want you to stay with Xuelian and guard her retreat. The tower will be too close for your skills, and I require your eyes on the streets for reinforcements.”

“What about me?” Meixing asked, bouncing on her toes.

“I need you and Tian Zhen here,” Zifeng told her decisively, ignoring her pout. “You are our last resort should anything go amiss.”

It was a solid plan, Daisuke had to admit, although he noticed that Zifeng hadn’t mentioned Daisuke’s part in the whole scheme.

Zifeng turned to Xuelian and Jing Yun. “You know your role.”

Jing Yun put a hand on Xuelian’s shoulder, and they winked out of sight.

In the tense moment that followed, Daisuke could see the young lord watching Marin uneasily, as if he was trying to weigh up his chances of persuading her to remain behind, but then the guards at the door simultaneously and silently dropped, giving them their cue to get moving. When Marin started heading purposefully towards the door Zifeng fell into step beside her without any further debate. Daisuke rolled his eyes and followed the Priestess silently with Zhang Yong and Zhu Yi falling in behind him.

The door swung quietly open. Jing Yun and Xuelian flashed back into view, and they all went inside.

Xuelian managed to drop three of the guards in the chamber below the tower with a gentle touch before they had even realised there was a threat, and Zifeng sent Zhang Yong to block the passageway into the palace with a look and a swift hand gesture. The remaining guards were beginning to scramble to their feet, dice games abandoned and stools overturned, when Xuelian brushed two more with outstretched fingertips.

There was a scrape of swords and weapons being drawn, but Zifeng whirled to bring his own hilt up under another guard’s chin, and the man slumped noiselessly.

Two more who had tried to rush the young monk, thinking to take the easier target and raise the alarm, had been laid out by a precise sweep of his staff. Another ran at him, his mouth opened to shout, but the staff drove the man back and knocked him out with a fast blow.

Daisuke had drawn back with Marin, out of reach of the action, his daggers in his hands. When he shifted on his feet, he felt her hand catch at his arm, and he flashed her a grin.

“I think they’ve got it under control,” he observed. “Let your Seishi have this one; we can have fun next time.”

He heard her muffled laugh. In spite of his casual banter, his eyes were narrowed as he watched the swift and bloodless battle, and his fingers flexed on the hilts of his daggers.

“Put away your daggers,” Marin insisted, her voice a whisper against the back of his neck that sent a shiver down his spine. “We don’t want to kill anyone.”

Daisuke’s tense grin grew wry. “I’ll try not to, sugar, but if it’s us or them, then it’s them.” He glanced down at the knife she was holding in her hand, half-hidden in her skirts. “I’ll put mine away when you put yours away.”

He heard her huff of annoyance, and shot a grin at her over his shoulder, but he didn’t move until the room was cleared.

Zifeng caught Jing Yun’s attention and jerked his chin towards the staircase, and the thief grinned and vanished. Zifeng’s reversed sword took down another guard. One of them swung at Zifeng’s back, and dropped as Xuelian’s hand grabbed at his sword arm, narrowly missing the blade. Zifeng caught at Xuelian as she staggered and nearly fell.

“Time to go,” Zifeng told her, and the doctor struggled upright in his hold.

“I can do more,” she insisted, her voice trembling with exhaustion.

“You have played your part,” he told her gently, and handed her into Zhu Yi’s arms.

“Take Xuelian out of here to the rendezvous point. Keep her safe,” he commanded, and the archer gave a quick nod of acknowledgement.

The chamber was silent and strewn with the unconscious bodies of the tower guards, and Zifeng quickly surveyed the situation. Daisuke kept his daggers in his hands while Zifeng listened for a long moment, but there didn’t seem to be any hint that the alarm had been raised.

Daisuke was impressed, although he would never admit it, with how swiftly and silently the Seishi had dealt with the chamber full of armed warriors. It was the first time he’d really been aware that this was a skilled and honed team that had forged deep bonds with each other long before he’d arrived in this world. There must have been something in his face, because he felt Marin’s hand on his wrist, and when he looked up at her there was concern in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, and he forced a semblance of his usual grin.

“Disappointed they didn’t leave any for me to play with,” he said flippantly, and dipped his head to where Zifeng and Zhang Yong were waiting by the staircase. “Better not keep them waiting.

~~~~~

Marin followed Zifeng as he climbed the stairs that spiralled tightly up the tower. The windowless darkness was punctuated at intervals by small bronze lanterns, but the whole space was narrow and claustrophobic, and Marin had to suppress a shudder as she climbed. She felt Daisuke’s hand brush her shoulder in reassurance, and she smiled in response, even though he couldn’t see it.

When they finally reached the top, they found Jing Yun leaning against the stone wall with two guards slumped at his feet, their helmets askew and the tassels dangling over their slack faces. One of the bronze lanterns was sitting on the floor beside them.

“What took you so long?” Jing Yun asked, pushing himself upright and jerking a thumb at the narrow, painted door behind him. “I’ve got the lock open for you, but it took a while. It’s the weirdest thing, but the metal was frozen and I couldn’t work it until I thawed it with one of the lanterns.”

He glanced at Daisuke. “Looks like the freezing ghost story was the right one,” he said as Zifeng reached out and pushed the door open.

Marin stepped into the half-chamber at the top of the minaret behind Zifeng, and her breath fogged. It felt strange to feel cold again after so long in the intense heat of the desert air.

Through the windows that ringed the chamber she could see out across the city as the last light of sunset disappeared and darkness welled up in the streets between the buildings. The chamber itself was bare of everything but a wide stone niche between the windows opposite the door, and a flute that rested there. Ice crystals dusted the flute and spread across the stones, and Marin moved towards it.

Zifeng flung out an arm to hold her back, but Marin stepped around him and felt Daisuke move in beside her. Zhang Yong and Jing Yun were behind her, just within the door.

As she moved forward, the air shivered. There was something there, something that was barely more than a movement in the air between Marin and the flute sitting in the stone niche. Marin stepped forward cautiously and as the misty form coiled around her the breath froze in her lungs, stung her bare skin with a thousand needles, and the air shoved her back. Marin staggered backwards into Daisuke’s arms and shivered. His hold closed on her and for a brief heartbeat she let herself draw on his heat before she straightened.

The air swirled and coalesced, and there was a hint of a shifting shape. If it was a human shade, it was one that had been badly damaged, and Marin took a half step forward again, ignoring the hiss of warning from one of her companions.

“Are you guarding the shentsopao?” she asked the shade softly. She lifted a hand towards it, as if she were trying to gentle a skittish animal. “Were you one of Byakko’s Seishi?”

The phantom twisted and writhed. It moved as if it were trying to speak, and became more agitated. Marin’s hand touched the mist, and jerked back again as the cold stung her.

“I’m here to try and fix things in the Universe, and I need the priestess’ flute to do it. Will you let me have it?”

On the cusp of hearing, Marin thought she heard a wisp of a voice ask her who she was, and she answered automatically.

“I’m Marin, the Priestess of Suzaku.”

The air froze. In the sudden stillness, Marin thought she could make out the pale form of a boy, eyes wide with horror in a face torn and disfigured. Then the phantom lunged at her with a soundless scream and Marin found herself yanked out of reach by Daisuke’s arm looped around her waist.

Zifeng had his sword out and the blade flickered with a red light as it cut through the space between Marin and the phantom. The pale form writhed and hissed, and flowed around Zifeng as he swivelled to follow it. It kept coming after Marin, and she backed away until she felt the rough stone of the wall behind her.

Daisuke had shoved himself between her and the ghostly Seishi, so close that she brushed his back with every unsteady breath that she took. Those daggers of his wouldn’t stop the wraith.

Zhang Yong flung himself forwards with that small bronze mirror of his in his hands as he thrust it at the phantom. He was muttering rapid prayers as the wraith twisted away from the mirror, shrieking, and ripped apart like ribbons of air.

Before the wraith could return or reform, Marin slid out from behind Daisuke and ran to the niche. That was what they had done all this for. She grabbed for the flute, and cried out as she felt cold bite deep into her arm. Ice ripped up through her from the shentsopao. Daisuke pulled her away just as the flute shattered.

Shards of ice and stone flew outwards on the shockwave of an explosion that stole the noise from the air, and Marin was falling, wrapped in the heat of Daisuke’s arms, his heartbeat the only sound left in her ears as she fell.

Vines caught them and cradled them as they fell, and Daisuke’s warm hands closed around her frozen forearm. She couldn’t hear anything but a ringing aftermath of the explosion. She blinked, and saw Tian Zhen’s vines drop Zifeng gently to the street. There was no tower left. Only rubble and the crushed remains of the palace wall.

Zhang Yong was staggering on his feet, clutching his mirror protectively, and Meixing was holding Zhang Yong’s staff. She couldn’t see Zhu Yi or Jing Yun who were behind her, but Xuelian was leaning heavily against what was left of a wall on the other side of the street, her medical chest on the ground at her feet. Everything was coated in dust.

Zifeng was reeling on his feet, dazed and blinking uncertainly at Daisuke. Blood trickled down his face, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“How are you not… how…?” Zifeng lurched and Tian Zhen caught him.

“We don’t have time!” Daisuke shouted, the words echoing oddly in Marin’s ears, and Marin felt him scoop her up into his arms. They felt solid under her wobbly legs.

Marin hugged her ice-cold hand to her as she huddled against Daisuke’s chest, and was dimly aware of the shards of the flute embedded in her numb palm. Through the ringing in her ears, Marin could make out the muffled thud of many boots approaching, and the faint shout of authoritarian voices over the screams and shouting.

Daisuke said in a voice of urgent command, “Split up and get out of the city. Xuelian, Zhu Yi-“

“I’ve got Jing Yun,” Zhu Yi stated over the noise in Marin’s ears. He had the thief’s arm slung over his shoulder, half-carrying him, and Jing Yun blinked under a myriad of tiny, bleeding cuts.

“Zifeng, can you walk?” There must have been an affirmative from the young lord. “Go with Meixing and Tian Zhen. Take Zhang Yong. Meixing, you’re the rallying point - we’ll find you. Go!”

He swung away into the alleys, cradling Marin protectively, before anyone could react or Zifeng could follow. Marin was still too dazed to protest, or notice how they all reacted instinctively to Daisuke’s assumption of leadership.

Over Daisuke’s shoulder, Marin saw the Seishi scatter. Jing Yun, Zhu Yi and Xuelian vanished just as a cohort of guards came into view at a run. Zifeng was frozen for a moment, his blood-streaked face turned to Marin until the guards cut him off and Tian Zhen hauled him away to avoid them. Then she lost sight of him, and pressed her face into Daisuke’s shirt.

They were several streets away, and the sounds of pursuit had faded when Marin tapped his shoulder and struggled to stand. Daisuke set her on her feet in the tiny alley and waited while she wobbled on her feet and tried to shake off the lingering ringing in her ears from the explosion.

Daisuke was focused on her arm. It tingled faintly when he gently pushed her sleeve up, and the skin from fingertips to elbow was a marbled white. Marin sucked in air as he cupped his hands gently above her arm, not quite touching, and breathed between them.

She stared down at his flame-bright head bent over her, and was stricken with the sudden longing to run her fingers through his hair, but she kept her free hand clenched at her side as her other arm began to tingle and then sting with the reawakened nerves.

“I don’t think it went too deep,” Daisuke said, and his voice gusted over her frostnipped skin, flushing it with heat. He ran his hand down, straightening out her fingers, and she flexed them experimentally, accidentally brushing the fall of his hair as he bent over her. It was as inviting as she had imagined.

“At least there’s no risk of refreezing in this heat.” Daisuke’s hands were warm where they still rested on her wrist. He carefully picked the shards of bamboo from her palm. She found herself staring blankly at the pieces of the bamboo flute that had been embedded in her skin.

“Another priestess that didn’t survive,” Marin said distantly. “There were police at the library a few weeks ago, asking if anyone had seen a girl that had gone missing nearby. Her name was Yuki, and she was supposed to stop in at the library on her way to her flute lessons.”

Daisuke’s hands gripped her wrist a little tighter.

“I’m guessing you lost the Seishi on purpose,” she forced a smile, and he grinned at her, but the expression was as strained as hers felt.

“Would you kill me if I said yes?” She tested her arm again, rotating her forearm back and forth, and hissed as pain flooded through it. It stung like fury, but that was better than numb and at least it was a healthy colour again. The cuts on her palm bled as she opened and closed her hand.

“I suppose it’s a good sign that I can feel again.”

“Hurts like hell, but it sure beats the alternative.” There was an oddly ominous note in Daisuke’s voice, but when Marin looked up the shadows in his hazel eyes vanished and he gave her that reckless grin.

“Ready to go, Priestess? I’m sure everyone’s missing my magnetic presence by now.”

Marin gave a raspy laugh. “You keep telling yourself that. So what now?”

“Now we head up out of the city and wait for Meixing to send up the signal so we know where to find everyone.”

There was the sound of marching boots approaching behind them. Daisuke scooped an arm around her, spinning Marin into an alleyway out of sight as the guards rounded the corner. Marin stayed still against him, but then his arm fell away and he was gone, moving out of the alley to see if it was clear, and Marin was left wondering if what she was feeling was relief or disappointment.

Daisuke caught at her hand as he pulled her out into the open street, pausing occasionally to avoid another cohort of city guards tramping past. They made it to the edge of the city where the sand began to reclaim the buildings and the cliff rose steeply above them. The few people they passed on the way were hurrying down into the city with lanterns and baskets swinging from poles, too preoccupied to pay much attention to a young couple wandering off into the dark desert night.

Marin kept her eyes fixed on the road as they climbed. She found her footsteps slowing, and Daisuke glanced back at her in concern.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

Before she could answer, Meixing’s light bloomed above the desert and the city below them, and they both turned to mark it.

“There’s the signal,” Marin sighed.

“Let’s get you back to your Seishi before they start panicking,” Daisuke said lightly, but his footsteps had slowed to match hers, and he didn’t seem to be in any more of a hurry than she was to reach the rest of their companions.

The light shone like a beacon over the remains of a building half-buried in the dunes as the road began to disappear. Marin and Daisuke were the last to arrive, and the moment they were in sight Meixing dimmed her glow. Zifeng strode swiftly towards them, almost running as he stirred up flurries of sand with every step, and he engulfed Marin in a crushing embrace. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the tension in his grip as he held her.

“Thank the gods you are safe,” he muttered into her hair, and Marin raised her uninjured hand to tentatively pat his back. “What delayed you?”

Daisuke was the one who answered. “We had to deal with the frostbite. That ghost hit Marin with some sort of freezing power just before everything exploded. I don’t think it went deep, but I didn’t want to risk leaving it. You might want to take a look at Marin’s hand just to be sure,” Daisuke said to Xuelian.

Marin sighed as Zifeng pushed her back at arm’s length to examine her more closely. She could tell from the look of horror in his eyes that he was going to be difficult about this. Xuelian peeled back Marin’s sleeve and prodded the healed skin.

“You warmed it without direct contact?” she asked Daisuke, and he nodded. “I don’t think there’ll be any lasting damage, from the look of it.”

“We also had to dodge a few guards on the way out. The city forces have been mobilised, but I don’t think they followed us out of the city.”

Jing Yun materialised beside them, and Marin jumped.

“No sign of pursuit yet, but we should go before someone thinks to investigate our own personal star here,” he told them, gesturing at Meixing, who stuck out her tongue at him and closed her hand on the ball of light so that it shone dimly between her fingers.

Zifeng dipped his head in agreement, his arms closing around Marin again.

“It is time to return to Hongnan,” he decreed.

“But we’ve lost the shentsopao,” Zhu Yi pointed out. “We’re still short on what we need to summon Suzaku.”

“I do not believe we need to proceed further,” Zifeng insisted. “We have the shentsopao of Genbu, and with Daisuke I believe we have what we need to summon Suzaku. To venture into Qudong would be foolhardy, and involve months that we do not have to spare.”

“Daisuke is not the shentsopao,” Marin reiterated in frustration.

“I have given it much thought, and it is the only explanation for his presence in this world that makes sense.”

Marin took a deep breath. “What if you’re wro… What if he’s not?” she tried to keep her voice calm and not react to the hint of patronage in his voice. “Can we really afford to make a mistake here? I think we need to go to Qudong and try to find Seiryuu’s shentsopao.”

Zifeng turned on her. “I almost lost you tonight! I will not risk your life in pointless pursuit after Seiryuu’s shentsopao when we already have the second talisman. I indulged your whim to come to Xilang-“

“Excuse me?” Marin broke free of Zifeng’s hold and backed up a step, her fingernails cutting into her palm.

“Genius move, Your Lordship,” Daisuke drawled, folding his arms across his chest, and he raised an eyebrow as everyone pivoted to stare at him. “I’m not feeling very talismany. If the Priestess says we should go to Qudong, then that’s what we should be doing.”

Zifeng turned on him like a gathering stormcloud.

“You may have no regard for Marin’s safety-“

“I don’t want to lock her away in a safe little cage, if that’s what you mean.”

“- but it is my paramount duty to protect the Priestess at all costs.”Xuelian was frowning at her thoughtfully.

“Why are you so certain that Zifeng’s theory is wrong?” she asked. Marin stayed silent, trying to come up with a way to phrase an answer that was both honest and not likely to throw fuel on the flames of the argument, and Xuelian stared at her for a long moment.

“I have to vote with Zifeng to return to Hongnan,” the doctor said reluctantly.

“I still don’t understand how we’re going to get out of the desert at all,” Meixing interjected, her gaze swivelling from Xuelian and Marin back to Zifeng. “Hongnan or Qudong, we don’t have enough water or food to get anywhere, and half of us are still recovering from being blown out of a tower.”

“You don’t understand,” Marin said, cutting over all the other voices. “I’m not voting. I’m going to Qudong.”

The silence was deafening. Daisuke was looking around the open-mouthed Seishi, his mouth curling in a smirk at their expressions.

“You can come with me, or you can find your way to Mt Daichi and meet me there.”

“And how do you plan to get to Qudong?” Xuelian pushed. “We have no money, and there’s no ships sailing from Xilang if we did. It would take you months to go by land if you even know the way, and on your own you’d be a sitting target.”

“She wouldn’t be alone,” Daisuke interrupted, and Xuelian gave him a frozen stare.

“It’s impossible.”

Marin looked at Zhang Yong.

“Maybe not,” she said quietly. “I think it’s time the Great Sage helped us out, if she truly wants us to do this.”

Zhang Yong clutched at the front of his tunic, then he swallowed and slowly pulled out the small bronze mirror he had tucked there. He pressed his hand to the polished surface, and it lit up with a faint silvery light. Over his shoulder, Marin could see the face that looked as if it had seen the dawn of time.

“Chiriko,” the mirror said to Zhang Yong in a voice like cracked glass. Deep black eyes settled on Marin, and the ancient woman’s mouth curved in a maze of wrinkles. “Priestess.”

The bottomless gaze swept over the Seishi gathered behind Zhang Yong, and seemed to pause for an endless moment on Daisuke, slouching at the edge of the group.

“And you’re still here,” the old woman said to him, and Daisuke glowered. In the far distance, Marin thought she could hear noises and shouts from the edge of the cliff road that led down into the city, and her head snapped around to peer into the darkness.

“Well? You don’t have much time,” the Sage rasped. “What do you want?”

“We need to get to Qudong, to find the shentsopao of Seiryuu’s priestess,” Marin said tersely, sharply aware of the approaching clank of weapons and armour that carried over the night-time air of the desert.

There was a dry chuckle from the mirror.

“You don’t ask much, do you, dearie?” Tai Yi Jun’s ancient eyes pinned Zhang Yong with a knowing look. “Well? Are you willing to do this, Chiriko?”

Marin could hear the susurration of sand under many boots pounding over the dunes. Meixing doused her light quickly, but Marin could still see the highlights of Zhang Yong’s face in the silvery glow of the mirror.

“Decide quickly,” Tai Yi Jun rasped, and Marin frowned.

“Zhang Yong? What does she mean?”

Zhang Yong gave the mirror a stiff nod. “For the Priestess, my decision is already made.”

“Chiriko,” the dry voice snapped. “You know what you have to do.”

“Zhang Yong?” Marin asked as she saw the boy square his shoulders. His dark eyes met hers, a little wide with apprehension and resolution. “What does Tai Yi Jun mean?”

He didn’t say anything, but as he raised his staff a shield formed like a bubble around them all. In the mirror, Tai Yi Jun clapped her hands and the bubble collapsed inwards with a soft boom as everyone within it disappeared.


	13. In the Bamboo Forest

# In the Bamboo Forest

I was looking for a breath of life

A little touch of heavenly light

But all the choirs in my head sang No

[Breath of Life: Florence and the Machine]

The harsh sands of the desert vanished and the dark shadows of a mist-filled bamboo forest closed around them like a fist. The bamboo whispered and rustled above them, and thin shafts of light filtered through and were dissolved into eerie dimness by the curling mist.

Marin staggered from the dislocation, her stomach rolling with nausea, and she righted herself just in time to see Zhang Yong’s staff fall and his face turn to a chalky pallor. The young monk’s eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped.

Marin clapped hands over her mouth, smothering the shriek as Zhang Yong fell. Xuelian was at his side in an instant, her hand on his pulse, lifting his eyelids gently. Marin didn’t realise she’d been holding her breath until Xuelian announced that he was alive. The doctor’s expression was still too serious.

“He’s too deeply unconscious,” Xuelian murmured, her attention on the boy. “I don’t like the way he’s breathing.”

Marin squeezed her eyes shut, and then felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” Daisuke whispered, his breath tickling her ear. “This is not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” she whispered back. “I’m the one who insisted on coming to Qudong, and asked Tai Yi Jun to send us here.”

“And she didn’t tell you what was involved with that. Neither did Zhang Yong,” he insisted. Marin pressed her lips in a tight line. That didn’t help much.

A tendril of mist wrapped around her, leaving a cold trail on her skin. She caught the glint of a dagger in Daisuke’s free hand, and reached for the butterfly knife tucked in her sash.

“Good girl,” Daisuke murmured. She rolled her eyes at him, and he flashed her a distracted half-grin before he turned his attention back on the forest towering around them.

The mist crept through the bamboo trees and coiled in snaky tendrils around the undergrowth. The faint sounds of Xuelian opening her medicine chest beside Zhang Yong’s inert body and the creak of Zhu Yi’s bow as he nocked an arrow and drew it carefully were swallowed by the damp grey air. Marin found herself shivering. There was nothing to be seen and the forest around them vanished into a blank slab of fog.

Marin froze as her ears caught a faint hiss, and Daisuke shifted beside her.

“What’s up?” he whispered, and Marin frowned. She turned her head, trying to locate the sound in the devouring mist, but it was gone. And then she heard it again. She tilted her head back, and found herself looking up into brilliant blue serpentine eyes, watching them with a curious malevolence from the bamboo canopy far above. It was hard to make out the draconian body that trailed away into the mist and wrapped around the tree tops. The colour of the scales shifted and moved and flickered with a silvery light and dissolved into the mist that seemed to come from them.

Beside her, Daisuke looked up too. She heard his indrawn breath, and the sound of Zifeng’s sword being drawn from its sheath. There was a muffled cry from Meixing, and the dragon’s head whipped around to follow the noise.

~~~~~

The blinding flash from Meixing dazzled them all for a moment, but it also confounded the dragon. The beast whipped away from the sudden flash of light and disappeared into the mist. When it melted back out of the air with a deafening roar, they all had their weapons in their hands. Xuelian was crouched protectively over Zhang Yong’s comatose form in the middle of the ring of steel and glittering power.

Daisuke found himself side by side with Zifeng. The young lord’s forehead blazed with Tamahome’s fierce red symbol, reflected in the thin line of crimson fire that flickered down the length of his sword. There may not have been much love lost between them, but they were a united wall of defence as Seiryuu lunged at their Priestess.

Zifeng’s blade cut through the mist, scoring shallow lines of ichor along the hide of the dragon. The dragon swirled up into the air, hissing and snarling, and Zhu Yi’s arrows glanced off its scales in glittering red sparks. Its tail cracked like a whip as it spun and lanced down at them again, ripping through the vines that Tian Zhen sent after it. Daisuke saw Zifeng spin Marin out of reach just in time.

The weight of his daggers settling in his hands, Daisuke flung himself recklessly into the path of the dragon and, as he’d intended, it coiled swiftly back on itself to follow him away from the Priestess. He shot a quick look at Zhang Yong, crumpled in an unconscious heap on the damp, leaf-strewn floor of the forest. No hope of Tai Yi Jun’s intervention this time. They were on their own with a murderous god in the bamboo forest.

“Don’t kill Seiryuu!” Marin shouted from behind Zifeng.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the mouthful of teeth bearing down on him as he backed up quickly through the thick stems of the dark bamboo. Not fast enough. Seiryuu seemed to phase _through_ the bamboo, slamming him back into the forest and scoring sharp lines of pain down one shoulder as the beast god raked at him.

The dragon clashed its teeth too close, the steam of its breath washing over Daisuke. In that split second, he found himself staring up into the lightless malevolence of the void in Seiryuu’s eyes. With a sharp cry, he jerked up his legs and kicked out, catching Seiryuu in the neck and forcing the god back as he scrambled away.

The dragon followed him, stalking him sinuously, snapping at him. His daggers drew ichor, and he kept dodging, trying to keep it away from Marin and the Seishi. The beast god’s attention was riveted on him as it stretched wickedly sharp talons to strike at him again, but Daisuke was still out of reach and the dragon snarled in thwarted fury.

“Seiryuu’s not after me!” Marin was shouting at someone, and Daisuke spared a quick glance to see Zifeng holding her back forcibly with his outstretched arm. He looked back, and saw the dragon blink, and the black void was gone. Seiryuu coiled about Himself in the misty shadows and watched him with a burning intelligence. “He’s after Daisuke!”

Then the long muzzle swung around towards the source of the distraction. Behind the shield of thin red fire and Seishi, Seiryuu found the easy targets - Marin, armed with nothing more than her tiny little knife, and Xuelian and Zhang Yong, exposed and vulnerable and unmoving. It flicked a quick, all-too-intelligent look back at Daisuke, taunting him, and wheeled around to flow swiftly through the trees towards its new prey.

“Oh _hell,_ ” Daisuke swore under his breath, and shoved his daggers in their sheaths, breaking into a run. _Too slow, too slow!_

Daisuke pushed himself faster and flung himself at the dragon, half-expecting to crash through it to a very painful fall. Instead, he found himself clinging to the dragon’s tail. That was the moment when he realised that he didn’t have a plan.

Seiryuu bellowed and flung Himself skyward, and Daisuke was twisted around until he was hanging precariously under the dragon as it tried to snap at him and wrench free of Daisuke’s grip. Another snap, and Daisuke felt pain bite into his arm.

“Bad dragon!”

He managed to kick out and caught it in the throat again. It thrashed wildly, and Daisuke slid a little further until he was holding onto the scales by his fingertips. They cut into his fingers as he worked to get a better grip. The dragon spiralled swiftly down towards the ground, trying to throw him off. Teeth gnashed ferociously near his ear, but Seiryuu couldn’t reach him this time, and the god’s claws scrabbled ineffectually at the air. Daisuke lashed out again.

With a furious roar, Seiryuu finally flicked him aside and shot into the sky, and Daisuke hit the ground with a thump that knocked all the air out of him.

He heard Zifeng shout, “ _Marin!_ ” and everything became a confused blur. Marin was there in front of him, arms outflung as she faced the dragon, and Daisuke’s heart clenched in fear. He saw the bottomless black flash in the dragon’s eyes as its muzzle snapped shut and wrenched aside a breath away from savaging the Priestess.

There was another savage explosion of light from Meixing, and a dragon’s scream, then silence. When Daisuke’s blinded vision cleared again he could see the glow of the Seishis’ red power circling around him and Meixing leaning unsteadily against Tian Zhen.

Daisuke wheezed a little as he tried to fill his lungs and sent ribbons of fiery pain down his chest. The dragon’s talons had scored deeply when it had slashed at him, and he was pretty sure that Seiryuu’s fangs had done damage, judging from the way his forearm was throbbing. He tried to flex his left hand and hissed with pain.

Zhu Yi had his gaze fixed on the bamboo trees swaying above them with his bow drawn, and Jing Yun stood guard, braced and watching for another attack that didn’t seem to be coming. Daisuke closed his eyes for a moment, just until the throbbing died down a bit. Then he’d get up. Honest.

He cracked his eyes open as he felt someone move near his elbow, and there was Marin, haloed by the misty green of the bamboo forest as she leaned over him with an unreadable expression.

“Jeez, Priestess, you just took ten years off my life with that stunt,” he rasped.

Then she moved back, and Xuelian came into view.

“A little help here?” he asked, and flinched as Xuelian reached down to pull him to his feet by his uninjured arm. “Ow!”

“Oh, stop being such a baby,” the doctor said unsympathetically as she steered him to a rock and pushed him to sit. She began to investigate his injuries. “You’re not going to die, although you deserve a few scrapes and bruises for doing something that monumentally stupid.”

“Are you going to let her talk to your hero like that?” he asked, turning insincerely piteous eyes on Marin.

And Marin began to swear with creative fluency.

She enunciated every syllable of the rising profanities with a sharp and elegant precision that fascinated him, and he found himself frankly staring. She didn’t repeat herself once. Marin may have found swearing to be crass, but when she decided it was necessary, she was very good at it.

“And _fuck_ your ancestors to the eighteenth generation! Seiryuu was trying to kill you, and you make it easier to turn you into dragon fodder by _throwing yourself unarmed at Him?!_ ”

“You said don’t kill the dragon,” he pointed out. “I didn’t kill the dragon.”

“Yes, but I didn’t say ‘Let the fucking dragon use you as a chew toy’!” Marin snarled.

“If we’re talking stupid moves, you’re the one who used yourself as a human shield!” He threw his hands in the air, wincing as the dragon tooth mark on his forearm began to bleed again. Xuelian pulled his arm back down, frowning at it. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“Seiryuu wasn’t going to kill me! You saw how He pulled away -”

“How did you _know_ that He was going to do that?” Daisuke shouted. “What if He hadn’t?”

“Unlike some people, I pay attention. Or didn’t you notice the way that Seiryuu and Byakko both seemed to be focused on _you_ unless we interfered? I was pretty sure –“

“ _Pretty_ sure?!” he cut her off, pulling away from Xuelian’s hold on his wounded arm to round on her.

“It was a calculated risk,” she snarled back.

Daisuke gaped at her, speechless for once.

“Loathe though I am to say it, I do agree with Daisuke. Your safety is always priority,” Zifeng said reluctantly, and Daisuke spun around to point a triumphant finger at him.

“See?” he shot out. “Even Zifeng agrees with me!”

“ _I was not going to stand there and let you die!_ ”

Marin was breathing hard now, glaring at him. The fists clenched at her sides were trembling, and when Daisuke looked into her storm-dark eyes he met a dread and anger that mirrored his own.

“Seiryuu was after _you_ ,” she whispered, the fight draining out of her, “not me. He nearly killed you.”

He reached up to brush her cheek with the tips of his fingers, pulling away before she could react.

“It’s okay, Priestess,” he said gently. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easy. I’m not going anywhere until we can both go home.”

“We must go,” Zifeng interrupted sharply, and Marin stepped back, moving away to check on Zhang Yong, who was still unconscious. Only the faint, ragged rise and fall of his chest gave any hint that he was still alive.

“Are we going to be able to move him?” Daisuke asked. “We probably don’t want to be spending more time in this forest than we have to, and seeing we’ve come all this way for it, we should probably do something about finding the damn shentsopao.”


	14. In Hostile Territory

# Hostile Territory

I'm gonna raise the stakes, I'm gonna smoke you out

[Seven Devils: Florence and the Machine]

Marin was still feeling unsettled by things with Daisuke, and tuned out the argument about what to do next, whether to carry Zhang Yong with them and risk injuring him, or for a small group of them to stay here with the young monk while the rest of them went in search of the shentsopao and risk splitting the group with the possibility that Seiryuu could return. And which direction to strike out in this fog-blinded forest.

“We can’t be far from wherever it is,” she said suddenly, ignoring the rising voices that she’d cut off as she got up from the fallen bamboo log she’d been sitting on and brushed off her skirts. “Tai Yi Jun wouldn’t have transported us too far away from where we need to be.”

Zhu Yi was scanning the floor of the forest around them, and he dropped into a crouch for a closer look at something. “There’s a path this way. It’s not much, but I can’t see any other way through.”

Without waiting to see what decision Zifeng would make, Marin shouldered her pack and her roll of blankets again and set off in the direction Zhu Yi was pointing. It was hard to make out through the mist and the trees, but the further she pushed on, the more she could see that there was a faint trail through the undergrowth. She heard Zifeng tell Tian Zhen to bring Zhang Yong with him, and the sounds of the Seishi shuffling to catch up with her, but she kept going without glancing back at them.

Before too long, the undergrowth opened up abruptly in front of her on paving stones and a swooping tiled roof over red pillars. Something had torn up the cobbles and ripped through part of the temple roof, and it had been recently enough that the churned up stones were still raw under the weeds that had crept in on everything.

“Wait!” Zifeng called to her, and Marin halted. There was something distinctly eerie about this temple buried in the middle of a swaying, rustling forest and she had no desire to rush in there. For a long moment, they all stood there staring at it, then Daisuke broke the silence and started to make his way across the ruined paving. Jing Yun was not far behind him, and Marin followed as he pushed the remains of the doors out of the way.

Soft light washed over Marin, announcing Meixing’s presence behind her. The temple was larger than it had seemed from the outside. It was disturbingly similar to the great Temple of Suzaku in Rongyao. Painted dragons coiled and curled across the beams and pillars where images of firebirds would have been, and azure blue saturated the walls and tattered scraps of cloth that were left. The huge bronze brazier on the marble platform in the middle of the chamber, though, could have been a twin of the sacred brazier in Suzaku’s temple. It lay on its side, and there was still a scattering of coals and ash spilled across the floor and ground into the discoloured marble as if a ritual had been savagely interrupted and abandoned.

Something glittered near the brazier in a stray shaft of sunlight that fell through the broken roof of the temple. Marin bent down to look closer, brushing aside the drifts of dirt and leaves to uncover a hairclip. It sparkled like a cluster of stars as she brushed the dirt off it, turning it over in her fingers with a frown. It looked a little familiar, as if she had seen something like it a long time ago. She was distracted from trying to chase down the recollection when it prickled against her skin.

“The shentsopao of Seiryuu’s priestess!” Zifeng exclaimed, leaning over her shoulder to see the hairclip in her hand.

“It must be.”

“We have them all now,” he exulted. Zifeng closed his eyes with a sigh of relief. “It is time to return home.”

Meixing turned slowly, her raised hand shining with soft light as she eyed the corners of the temple warily.

“Doesn’t this all seem a bit too easy?” she asked.

“Hey!” Daisuke protested, his hand going to the bandage around his arm.

“Toughen up,” Marin said, deadpan. “If you throw yourself at gods, you’ve got to expect that it’s going to hurt a bit.”

Daisuke made a face at her. “Next time I’ll just let you get eaten.”

“You _wrestled a dragon_. It was trying to kill _you_ , not me.”

“Maybe, but that shouldn’t have stopped the dragon from chewing on you as well. The interesting question here,” Daisuke said, “is _why_ did Seiryuu not kill you when He had the chance? Let’s leave out the question of why you threw yourself in his path, and what a stupid gamble that was.”

“It was a calculated risk,” Marin told him stiffly.

“Gamble,” Daisuke reiterated, and Zifeng frowned at them both. “And whether you were certain or not that He would, why did He stop when you got in the way?”

Marin frowned, her mind turning to the pertinent question. “Clearly, Seiryuu wants me alive for some reason,” she said slowly, “and the only explanation that I can think of is because I’m the only one who can summon Suzaku. But why would Seiryuu want me to summon another god? I don’t like this.”

She made a frustrated sound. “There are just more and more questions, and not enough answers.”

“And it bugs you that there isn’t a book on _Gods and What Motivates Them_ handy, doesn’t it?” Daisuke teased with a sympathetic grin, and Marin pulled a face at him.

Zifeng, who had been watching this exchange with a dour expression, snapped, “It is fruitless to continue to debate this, for we cannot know the mind of a god. Tai Yi Jun herself has told us what our course of action must be, and now that we have the shentsopao of Seiryuu’s priestess and Genbu’s priestess we must take them to Mt Daichi to summon Suzaku.”

Marin ignored Daisuke’s smirk as she sent Zifeng an irritated glance, and Xuelian moved towards them, her hand brushing Zifeng’s arm.

“Whatever the answers are, we’re not going to find them here,” Xuelian said pacifically, her eyes shifting from Marin to Daisuke and settling on Zifeng. “The longer we linger here, the greater the chance that Seiryuu will come back.”

Before anyone could respond, there was a soft sound outside the temple and a faint whistle through the open doors. Even as Marin turned her head, Zhu Yi had an arrow nocked and in the air, and there was a sharp _thwack_ as it collided with the arrow aimed at Marin, sending it tumbling to the ground and skittering across the marble floor.

Zhu Yi and Jing Yun were at the door, eyes on the forest, and Zifeng had his sword out of its sheath, putting himself between Marin and the unknown archer. She could see that Daisuke had his daggers in his hands. Her hand crept into her sash, and there was a soft _snick_ as she flicked the knife open. There was no further attack as they all watched the trees warily through the doorway.

Jing Yun vanished. After some time, he reappeared, his hands going up as Zhu Yi’s bow dipped quickly towards him. “Keep pointing that thing at me and I’ll start to think you don’t like me,” Jing Yun said to the archer. Zhu Yi gave a brief, tense smile, and lowered his bow.

“There’s no sign of whoever it was,” Jing Yun reported. “No sign of more than one person, either.”

“Who would be shooting at us? Who on earth would be _here_ , out in the middle of nowhere?” Marin asked.

“Whoever it was, they can’t shoot straight. The only way they would have hit anyone was by accident,” Zhu Yi said critically, and bent to examine the would-be assassin’s projectile. “The shaft’s good enough, and the fletching’s decent, so whoever it was doesn’t have any real training or skill with a bow to miss like that.”

“Or it was a warning shot,” Jing Yun suggested.

Zifeng was still watching the forest. “We can debate their intentions and abilities when we have removed somewhere a little safer. We have the shentsopao, and it would be unwise to remain here any longer seeking further sign of the unknown archer. Seiryuu may return.”

Marin nodded her agreement. It took far longer than she would have liked to make their way out of the bamboo forest, following the overgrown track from the temple. Zhu Yi scouted ahead of them, his bow in hand and one arrow nocked and ready, and Marin found herself sandwiched between Zifeng and Jing Yun as they walked, while Tian Zhen carried the still-unconscious Zhang Yong. They all kept glancing uneasily into the shadowy arc of the bamboo trees that towered and rustled unnervingly overhead.

The mist swirled in chilly ribbons with every step they took and they didn’t dare stop for food or rest.

“Have you noticed,” Daisuke said softly from behind her, “that we haven’t seen or heard any animals or birds?”

Zhu Yi murmured back, “They’d steer clear of the beast god’s territory.”

Marin shivered. “It feels like we’re being followed.”

“Yes, but by mortal or god?”

By the time they broke through the edge of the forest, it was full night. The sky was black and studded with a scant handful of hard, bright stars above them. Marin drew in a deep breath, and exhaled the mist from her lungs, relieved to be clear of the smothering trees. Zifeng decided that it would be too much of a risk to light a fire, and so they huddled in their blankets and pressed up against each other for warmth, and when the sun rose none of them had slept much.

When the first swarm of black birds swept through the sky, their screams deeper and uglier than true crows, Zhu Yi called a warning and they pressed into the shadows of shrubs and trees, waiting until the tengu had passed. But more followed, and more, like ominous clouds racing over them constantly as they made their way south.

Plumes of smoke filled the sky in the distance, and there were signs of devastation everywhere. Fields had been burned and the land was stripped, and the few living humans that they saw kept their distance.

At one small farm that they passed, someone shouted a warning as if they had been on the lookout for the Seishi, and the gates slammed shut. Marin could see Zifeng and Jing Yun exchange a silent look of concern, but Zifeng kept them moving.

There were no further attacks on them after the temple, but Marin found the back of her neck prickling and the rest of the Seishi were jumpy with tension. And little things kept happening. After a solid-looking bridge over a deep cut creek shifted under Jing Yun’s foot and nearly sent him skidding down the embankment with the loosened stones they were all more cautious. The ragged herd of animals that charged at them out of the ruins of one farmhouse as if they’d been goaded into it could have been a coincidence, but when they stopped at night, Marin was aware of every hesitant, shuffling sound in the darkness beyond their campfire. Nothing tested Zifeng’s vigilant watch, and in the morning, Zhu Yi eyed a line of scuffed footprints that led away from them.

“Incompetent,” he sniffed.

“Under the circumstances, that’s probably a good thing,” Jing Yun said, and Zhu Yi just shook his head.

Food was becoming more of a concern than the lurker. Even Tian Zhen was finding it hard to find anything edible in the trampled and scorched countryside, and he had emptied his store of seeds and fruit stones several days ago. By the third day, however, the scarcity of food pushed Zifeng to approach the battered little hamlet that they came across in the hopes of buying or bartering for something more than the scant forage they’d found. They were met by a small, ragged group of villagers with unfriendly expressions and a collection of makeshift weapons. Zifeng stepped cautiously forward.

“We mean you no harm. We are simply –“

“We were told about you,” the head villager spat. Marin could see the sickle in his hand tremble slightly. “ _Suzaku’s Seishi_.”

Behind her, Jing Yun muttered, “Told? By who?”

“You’ll get nothing from us, god-spawn,” the head man insisted.

Marin put out her hand to brush Zifeng’s arm, drawing him back.

“We can’t force them,” she whispered, and Zifeng gave ground. The villagers watched in a silent cluster as the Seishi backed away, and although they made no moves to follow, Marin felt the nervous prickle down her spine long after the village was out of sight.

When they came across an abandoned farmstead, Zifeng ordered them inside, and in spite of the eerie silence Marin was too hungry and exhausted to come up with an alternative. The house and outbuildings looked as if they had been abandoned in haste, and very little had been taken from them. It had happened recently enough that the stores of grains and preserved fruit and vegetables hadn’t had a chance to spoil.

Marin felt a pang of guilt when they raided the store room, broaching ceramic jars of pickles that had been left there, and taking rice from someone’s careful hoard, but it was too much of a relief to be eating something more than whatever Tian Zhen had been able to forage or grow.

“This is weird,” Daisuke said, poking at his bowl of pickles and rice. “Isn’t this weird? Three countries we’ve been through, three gods, and a whole pile of problems in every one of them. And more of the same happening back where we started.”

Marin said nothing. She set aside her uneaten dinner, and Daisuke must have seen something in her face, because he frowned at her.

“Don’t start doing that weight of the world thing you do, sugar,” he said forcefully. “My point is, something is going on in the Universe of the Four Gods. Something’s been going on here since way before you came into the book, so you cannot possibly blame yourself for all this.”

“But it is my fault that I couldn’t summon Suzaku and fix whatever’s gone wrong.”

“Or,” Daisuke gestured with his bowl, “maybe if it had worked, you would have mysteriously vanished like all the other priestesses, and Suzaku would be destroying the countryside like all the other gods.”

“Why _has_ Suzaku vanished?” Marin said slowly. It always seemed to come back to that. “Why didn’t He answer the summoning when the other three gods obviously did? It’s something I found hints of in Danzin’s book collection in Teniaolan, that something happened before the priestesses started turning up again. There were scraps of reports from all four countries before the borders shut down of the gods appearing, and what those reports say depended on where the accounts came from. What they all had in common, though, was that there seemed to be a terrible battle with something that no one can describe fully, but every one of them used words like ‘darkness’ and ‘void’.”

“Sounds like what I saw in Seiryuu’s eyes right before He tried to rip my throat out,” Daisuke said sardonically, but Marin saw the slight shudder that rippled through him. “And Byakko, for that matter.”

“I’ve been trying to put it together, and after the reports of the gods battling this darkness there’s no further mention of Suzaku that I was able to find. He just disappears.”

“Research face,” Daisuke teased gently, but Zifeng was watching her silently and there was no hint in his impassive face about what he was thinking.

Finally, Zifeng said, “How does this affect our course of action?”

Marin drew a breath, and voiced the fear she’d been skirting around. “What if Suzaku hasn’t come because He’s gone?”

“Gone?” Zifeng repeated blankly.

“Dead,” she said flatly. The Seishi who had been listening shifted uneasily, but Daisuke was shaking his head.

“Doesn’t fit,” he said. “This dark thing got to the other three gods after their priestesses tried to summon them. If it got to Suzaku, why would it just kill Him? We’d be much more likely to have a murderous, possessed god bird flitting around.”

Marin rolled her eyes at the irreverent summation, but the tension had eased in the whole group, and Jing Yun gave a snort of laughter.

“Then what happened to Him?”

Daisuke shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one with the theories and the facts, but isn’t it more likely that Suzaku saw what was up and went into hiding somewhere, and that the other gods called their priestesses to try and fix things?”

“And we know how well that worked,” Marin summed up bleakly. She turned Daisuke’s words in her mind, trying to see how it all fit together, and had to admit that it made sense.

The faint cough and moan from the corner where Xuelian was watching over Zhang Yong cut off any further discussion. Marin turned to find the doctor pressing a conscious Zhang Yong back down onto the pallet they had dragged into the kitchen for him.

“I’m fine,” the boy croaked, trying to bat her hand away, but his movements were too feeble and his arms shook with the effort. He gave in and collapsed back.

“You’re not going anywhere until you’ve managed to take in some broth,” Xuelian insisted. “You’ve been in a deep coma for four days, and I won’t have you killing yourself on my watch by getting up before you’ve recovered.”

Zhang Yong tried to sit up again, but Xuelian’s hand was more than a match for him. “How long?” he rasped.

Marin knelt down beside him, adding her touch to the doctor’s gentle pressure. “We have the shentsopao. We’re on our way back to Hongnan, maybe two days from the border. You got us to Seiryuu’s temple. You did it.” She leaned down to press a kiss on Zhang Yong’s forehead, and the boy sighed and subsided.

Everyone settled down to sleep on the kitchen floor that night, unnerved by the thought of the abandoned sleeping quarters and reluctant to leave the warmth of the stove and separate. Several times, Marin thought she heard footsteps shuffling around in the courtyard outside, but every time one of the Seishi went to check there was no sign of anyone there.

Zifeng sat guard over her throughout the night, but it was Daisuke who sat bolt upright in the dark hours of the morning and woke everyone with his startled cry.

“Fire!” he gasped.

Marin struggled free of her bedroll and blankets as the bodies around her stirred and cursed. Daisuke was on his feet, looking around wildly.

“There’s a fire!” he insisted, already reaching for the door. He flung it open, and they could hear the rising crackle of the flames near the front gate. Escape was already cut off in that direction. Smoke billowed across the courtyard and thickened the air, and Marin found herself coughing as Daisuke slammed the door shut again.

Tian Zhen scooped up Zhang Yong and his staff, and everyone snatched up their packs, following Zifeng to the window, scrambling through the opening. By the time they made it out, flinging packs and bedding and boots into the tiny kitchen courtyard and scrambling into the fields beyond, barefoot and dishevelled, flames had spread and started to lick up the walls to catch in the straw roof.

Weapons were drawn and Daisuke, Zifeng and Zhu Yi scanned the flaming darkness warily while the rest of them stuffed the blankets and packs that they’d managed to grab into a more manageable state. Marin tugged her boots on, wincing.

“Fire. Coincidence or not?” she asked, and Daisuke glanced back over his shoulder at her, his eyebrow raised in a silent _Seriously?_

“This is beyond a joke. I mean, the bridge, the goats, that hilarious pit trap, that was all kind of funny, but this?” Jing Yun glanced back at the burning farmhouse. “If Daisuke hadn’t warned us when he did, we probably wouldn’t have made it out in time.”

“How did you know there was a fire?” Marin asked Daisuke, but he didn’t answer.

Zifeng didn’t take his eyes off the farm and the shadows around them. “We must move on or risk another attempt on our lives.”

“It’s not as though there’s anywhere to stay here now,” Meixing muttered, slinging her sword belt across her back. Fire turned the darkness a livid, shifting amber behind them, and smoke roiled over the farmstead as they all shouldered their packs and weapons and set off across the fields.

By the time the dawn flushed the horizon in red and gold, the farm was long behind them and they were too exhausted to flinch at every slight noise and shadow, although Zhu Yi carried his bow loosely nocked and Daisuke and Zifeng still had their blades in their hands. Meixing had her sword out, and she beheaded wildflowers with a sweep of her blade every few steps.

Zhang Yong insisted on attempting to walk, even while his limbs trembled, but Tian Zhen ended up having to carry him as they kept going south. The closer they got to the border with Hongnan, the more tengu they saw sailing across the sky, streaming towards Rongyao, but the birds didn’t seem to be searching for them.

Early the next morning, Marin looked up as they walked the broad road that led through a hilly pass. There were unmistakeable signs of the great demon horde that had made their way from Qudong. The road bore the scars, and the air buzzed with the flies and insects that still gathered around the festering mounds of bones and scat that the ogres had left behind some months ago.

Stone monuments stood on either side of the road like broken teeth, the jagged bases knocked askew and the smashed pieces tossed aside with their carvings of fantastical beasts barely visible. As they drew closer Marin could see there had been dragons on the Qudong side twined in battle, or passion, with the firebirds on the other. Past the ruined monoliths, they were back in Hongnan.

The wide swathes of destruction followed the road to Rongyao. The countryside still smouldered, and Marin stared blankly at the blackened and razed farmhouses as they passed. She felt someone nudge her shoulder and jolted out of her abstraction.

“What are you thinking there?” Daisuke asked gently, ignoring the dark look that Zhang Yong was sending them. “I can practically hear the gears grinding in that head of yours.”

She gave him a strained smile.

“It’s just… This was the country I was supposed to protect.” Her eyes dropped, the road blurring in front of her feet for a moment as she walked beside him. “It took me a while to find some of the Seishi,” she said eventually. “Zhu Yi was in the Imperial Army, and even with Zifeng’s connections it wasn’t easy to find one archer among thousands of troops. Riding through the army camps, I thought I’d seen what the monsters were doing to Hongnan, but this… these were just ordinary people trying to feed their families and get on with life, and I’ve failed them all so badly.”

“I think we’re still being followed,” Zhu Yi said out of nowhere.

“The same assailant who set the fire?” Zifeng asked quietly.

“Looks that way. Same size and way of moving, but he’s staying too far back and off the road to know for sure. I can’t find out for sure unless I drop back and try tracking him.”

Zifeng frowned down that idea. “We cannot risk dividing our forces.”

“And we still don’t know who his target is,” Marin said. “Is he trying to kill me, or is he after Daisuke like Seiryuu and Byakko were?”

“I still don’t get why Seiryuu and Byakko would be trying to kill me,” Daisuke said.

From his place on Tian Zhen’s back, Zhang Yong muttered, “I can think of a few reasons.”

“And they both attacked Marin, so doesn’t that suggest that I wasn’t their only target?”

“Byakko was focused on you until I distracted Him,” Marin pointed out. “And Seiryuu turned on the rest of us to draw you into His trap. It worked, too, and you threw yourself at Him. You idiot.”

Daisuke gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, excuse me for saving your life. And maybe if you stopped distracting gods, they’d stop trying to eat you too.”

“Well, excuse me for saving your life,” Marin mimicked back at him. Noisy wings sailed across the sky again, and Marin looked up. “Crows!”

They all pulled back into the cover of the scant trees and undergrowth alongside the road again, but the tengu didn’t seem to be hunting for the Seishi. The creatures followed the trail of destruction towards the capital city, and before long Zifeng turned the Seishi towards the west, away from the crows’ path.

A day’s walk later, it was almost a jolt after the eerie devastation behind them when Marin saw villages in the distance with figures moving in the fields, and children racing up to the road to watch them pass with bright eyes. Daisuke would pull ridiculous faces that had them giggling and racing away, and Tian Zhen would toss a handful of nuts that he’d gathered to some of the braver ones who drew close enough to catch. They began to pass other travellers on the road, and the occasional ox-drawn cart full of produce or bales of goods, or pedlars with their wares piled on their bowed shoulders. War hadn’t spread this far into the north-western reaches of Suzaku’s country yet.

The further they went, the more Marin could see the tension ease in Zifeng’s spine. When the gentle rolling landscape of the farmlands became a deeper green and lifted into hills and arcing trees he strode ahead of the group as if straining to reach their destination faster. The road narrowed and grew a little steeper as it bent through the beautiful, sunlit larch and gingko branches.

“We are less than a day’s walk from my family’s lands,” Zifeng told Marin when she commented on his eagerness. He met her smile with a rueful look of his own. “I used to hunt these hills with my father’s men. It has been so long since I’ve been home.”

“What’s your family’s home like? Do you spend much time there?”

“I am not there as much as I would like to be,” Zifeng said. “Most of my time is spent in service to the emperor, but I do try to return every year for the summer festival. We may be there in time to see it. It’s so beautiful at night, when all the trees are hung with lanterns and every lake and pool reflects the light until it seems like the whole world is full of stars.”

His serious expression lightened in a smile that was all the sweeter for being so rare.

“I believe you will appreciate my father’s library,” he suggested, and the smile became a laugh as Marin straightened abruptly. Moments like that made Marin wonder guiltily why she wasn’t head over heels in love with him.

The path met a stream and followed alongside the babbling water as it wound up through the woods. When they camped for the night, the fire lit up the trees around them with a warm, friendly glow, and if they had indeed been followed out of Qudong there were no further assassination attempts. Marin allowed herself to relax a little in the watchful company of her Seishi.

Day dawned, and in the rising light they rolled up their bedding and followed the stream as it dipped steeply into a valley and grew wider and became a river. By the time the sun was shifting lower in the sky, the river had grown and the ribbed sails of small boats cut through the soft blue sky. Between the trees on the distant side of the river Marin could make out tiny houses perched over the water. Then they swung around another bend in the river and the road widened out into a broad wooden bridge that crossed into the streets of a town that was bustling with the noise and activity of the day.

Merchants and farmers laden with baskets and buckets were scurrying purposefully across the bridge, and some of them stopped to stare at the group of Seishi. Several darted back the way they had come, and by the time Marin and her companions had reached the town, a small crowd had gathered to watch in interest. Whispers ran ahead of them. More men and women came out of the houses and shops that lined the street, and when they saw Zifeng they sank into deep obeisance. They recognised him in spite of the motley disarray of the Seishi, and the dusty, tattered state of their Xilang clothes and Beijia woollen coats, and the people they passed cheered and smiled at their young lord. Marin, glancing up at Zifeng, saw an answering warmth in his eyes as he dipped his head in acknowledgement.

He turned to her, offering his hand, and she took it.

“Welcome to Zhaozhuang, my lady,” Zifeng said softly.

When she glanced behind her, back over the bridge, her eyes were caught by a motionless figure at the edge of the town, his ragged scholar’s robes and look of despair out of place in the cheering crowd. Zifeng claimed her attention for a moment, and when she looked back again the figure was gone.

Zifeng led them with surefooted familiarity through the town’s cobbled streets and past tiny shops bright with vermillion lanterns and umbrellas and spilling over with baskets and jars of fruits and cloth and musical instruments until they reached the other side of the town and the road began to climb up the steep mountainside rising over the river. Far above them, Marin glimpsed patches of grey stone between the trees.

When Zifeng saw where she was looking he gave her a small smile.

“That is Zhao Manor,” he told her. “We are nearly home.”


	15. Lantern Light and Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, there's going to be a bit of underage drinking in this chapter, depending on where you live. In my country, they're not underage. In Japan, apparently, they are. I don't in any way recommend or endorse underage drinking, in case I need to make that clear.

# Lantern Light and Fireworks

I can’t fight you anymore

It’s you I’m fighting for

[Ordinary Love: U2]

The wide path that led from the town up to the manor was steep as it wound up into the mountain. Near the top, it twisted back on itself to follow the line of a high stone wall that looked as though it had been standing for so long that it had almost become a part of the mountain itself. Characters and animals had been chiselled into the stones, and weathered so that some of them were barely recognisable anymore. It struck Daisuke that between the wall and the steep terrain with one traversable path it would be very easy to defend whatever lay behind that wall. Judging from the uneven gouges at odd intervals, someone had done just that at some point in the past.

Daisuke was following Marin, who trailed her fingers over the mossy stones of the wall as they climbed. Near the top, she paused at a beautiful bas-relief carving and traced the sweep of a magnificent feathered tail curving over the peonies and flowers.

Daisuke gave an involuntary shudder, and Marin glanced back at him.

“Are you alright?”

He tried to smile. “It’s that damn firebird again. I’m seeing it everywhere.”

“Well, it is Suzaku’s country,” Marin told him. “His image tends to show up a bit. Why does it bother you?”

“I don’t know,” Daisuke shrugged. “I just feel like it’s watching me. It’s got this look in its eye like my brother gets when he thinks I’ve screwed up.”

Zhang Yong was staring at him with an unfriendly expression, but he looked away without saying anything when Daisuke met his eyes.

Trees arced over the path, casting flickering green shadows on the mossy stone wall that curved around to the wide gates. There was no gaudy show of red and gold here, just tiers of worn steps and a substantial, carved wooden gate that looked as though it had withstood countless years with unmoved dignity, and Daisuke looked up into the mossy eaves that swept out over them. Yet another firebird stared down at him, and he resisted the urge to make a rude gesture at it.

Before Zifeng had even lifted his hand to announce their presence they heard the sounds of the gates being opened. The chances were, Daisuke reflected, that they had been noted and watched from the moment they reached the Zhao family lands and Zhaozhuang were high. The retainer who was now bowing deeply before them, the stiff wings of his black cap quivering, had probably been waiting behind the gates for their arrival for hours.

Zifeng was busy delivering greetings and commands, sweeping into the courtyard with an indifferent familiarity with his surroundings, but Daisuke stared frankly as he followed. After the austere grey and green of the outer wall, inside the walls was a bit of a shock. The marbled courtyard in front of them led to a faultlessly beautiful hall lit with the gentle glow of lanterns even in the late afternoon, but the eye was drawn by glimpses of artful paths that led off into the gardens, and Daisuke could hear the gentle sound of running water.

Wisteria hung in white and purple tendrils over the paths, and even in the summer air it was cool enough in this garden that late spring flowers still lingered and lit the dim green corners.

“Lady Marin and her companions will require suitable accommodation,” Zifeng was telling the retainer, who bowed deeply once more in a rustle of robes.

“It will be my honour.” He straightened, and fell into step just behind Zifeng and Marin as they moved towards the elegant sweep of cherry trees and the lantern-lit palace rising beyond. “His eminence is in residence, Young Master.”

Zifeng’s footsteps faltered imperceptibly, then he continued with a stiff nod to acknowledge the information.

They followed the servant through halls and rooms of quiet, dark elegance, fragranced with peonies and sandalwood. On the other side of the main hall they descended into another courtyard, and Marin, Meixing and Xuelian were delivered to the pavilions of the women. Far from that walled enclosure, they finally reached the courtyard where guests of the Zhao family were housed, and Daisuke was ushered into a chamber where servants glided in silently to present him with fragrant water and clean clothes, and then left him to his own devices.

~~~~~

In the family quarters, Zifeng stood for a long moment, his eyes closed as he tried to regroup. He heard the soft whisper of the door behind him sliding open, and he turned to see his father’s most trusted retainer kneeling in obeisance on the threshold. Zifeng felt his expression twist a little, and he smoothed it out into the required stillness.

“His lordship, your esteemed father, sends you greetings and requires you present yourself in the proper time,” the elder servant said to the floor between his hands, and Zifeng made an impatient gesture.

“Of course he does,” Zifeng said bitterly. “Perish the thought that he would speak to his eldest son in an improper time.”

The retainer looked up in confusion, and Zifeng brought himself under control again.

He said expressionlessly, “Please advise his lordship, my esteemed father, that I shall attend on him with all due honour.”

Zifeng paid little attention to the flurry of servants that descended, removing his outer robes and presenting a fresh tunic and trousers unstained by travel. He allowed them to wash his hands with scented water while a young attendant ran a comb carefully through his hair, but when it came to the hair ornaments he waved away the choices proffered for his approval. Now was not the time to risk offending his father, even by so small a detail as the head of a hairpin.

One of his attendants scurried away with the rejected hair ornaments and returned with the carved filigree hair cuff that he had been gifted when he came of age. He sat immobile while another attendant coiled his hair into a knot, and carefully slid the hair cuff and white jade pin into place. Preparations complete, he stood in a swirl of brocade and silk and went to face his father.

When he approached his father’s study, announced by the formal intonation of yet another family retainer, Zifeng knew better than to draw his father’s notice. Instead, he sank into a graceful obeisance, waiting patiently while the lord of the manor dipped his brush in the inkstand with unhurried precision, his wide white sleeve caught up in one hand as he finished writing the document in front of him. Eventually, Master Zhao laid the brush exactly in its stand, read through the document with impassive attention, and finally raised his head to look upon his son and heir.

“This is a litany of ill news that you bring. Our ship lost, the Priestess has failed to summon Suzaku, Rongyao under siege with demons overrunning our land, and the tengu hard on your heels. And now it seems that the gods themselves have turned against us.”

Zifeng knew better than to protest that this was not his fault. He bowed his head under his father’s cold regard.

“Have you brought news of any worth to me?” Master Zhao asked in that tone that could always reduce him to ignorant childhood. “Are you any closer to summoning the god and resolving the evils that beset Hongnan?”

“We have found the shentsopao of the other gods,” Zifeng offered, hating the faint tremble in his own voice. “With them, we should have the power to summon Suzaku now.”

“Then your next course of action must be to take the Priestess to Tai Yi Jun at Mt Daichi as soon as possible.”

That was a dismissal, and Zifeng bowed deeply once more. As he reached the door, his father’s voice stopped him.

“One moment. I have heard alarming rumours out of Qudong that traders in our employ who were headed for Chunfeng have disappeared without a word, and that the few who have returned report entire towns abandoned. There have been whispers of a dark force at work, but these are the usual drunken tales of the simpleminded,” Master Zhao sniffed coldly. “However, I would know the truth, and the agent I sent to Chunfeng has failed to return, although he has previously shown himself to be reliable. You have travelled through Qudong. Did you see anything to confirm or disprove these rumours?”

“The countryside was in disarray,” Zifeng said slowly. “We travelled from Xilang with the Great Sage’s aid, and did not pass near the city of Chunfeng. There were few people in the towns or villages along our path, although those we encountered would tell us nothing. However, the god Seiryuu is abroad in the land and tried to prevent us from gaining the shentsopao, but we prevailed.” He didn’t mention the inept assassin who had followed them through Qudong.

“And you have nothing more useful for me?” his father asked in scathing tones. He clearly expected no defence, and Zifeng stayed obediently silent, bowed under the weight of his father’s disapproval. The Marquis Zhao gestured briefly, and Zifeng found himself once more dismissed from his father’s presence.

At the door, Zifeng steeled himself, his heart hammering as he turned back.

“Father.” He prayed that his face gave away nothing of what he was feeling. “In my travels, I learned that Zhao Group has had no trade with Beijia in the past few decades, and that our trade with Qudong has dwindled to nothing in recent years.”

The icy silence stretched on, and Zifeng foolishly spoke to fill it. “Why have you told me nothing of this? Surely I should have –“

“You have lived at court,” Master Zhao cut him off with cool indifference, not bothering to lift his eyes from the document he was reading. “If you are not shrewd enough to pay attention and remain informed about matters of significance to our family’s interests, and the state of matters beyond Hongnan’s borders, then perhaps you are not the successor that I had hoped for.”

~~~~~

Daisuke had to admit that it was good to feel properly clean for the first time in weeks, and to be wearing clothes that didn’t smell like the rear end of a camel, but he didn’t appreciate sitting around waiting for their illustrious lord to join them. While he prowled restlessly around the drawing room, picking up statues and delicate-looking bowls and putting them back without really seeing them, Marin and the Seishi sat in awkward silence on the brocaded chairs and couches arranged with formal precision around the room.

Zifeng appeared in the doorway, and it was only his sublime indifference that kept it from seeming like a staged entrance, Daisuke decided dourly. A trio of servants followed in his wake, bowing lowly as they arranged a tray of delicacies and fruit, and another with a flask of rice wine and tiny cups of a porcelain so fine that they were almost translucent.

The servants backed out, and Daisuke put down the jadeite lion that he’d been inspecting with a _click_ that made Zifeng flinch in spite of himself. Daisuke suppressed a grin at the reaction.

“So what now?” he asked, and Zifeng gave him a faint frown.

“There can be no question. Our next course of action is to travel to Mt Daichi to complete the summoning.”

Zhang Yong pushed himself upright impulsively from the chair where he had perched. “That’s what Tai Yi Jun told me,” he said eagerly. “We’ve got everything we need now.”

Daisuke ignored them both, and turned to Marin. She was an unmoving flame of crimson in the austere grace of the drawing room, bathed and perfumed and restored to perfection, her hands folded tightly in her lap with a tiny frown between her eyes.

“And what are the other options?” Daisuke asked, still watching the Priestess.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, clearly, our divine Priestess has her reservations, so… what are the other options?”

“There aren’t any!” Zhang Yong interjected angrily. “Tai Yi Jun has told us to come to her, so that’s what we have to do.”

“And I wasn’t talking to you,” Daisuke cut him off curtly.

Marin stood slowly. “We’ve had instructions from Tai Yi Jun, and Zifeng thinks this is our best chance to summon Suzaku.”

“And you agree?” Daisuke pushed. “I can tell you’re not happy about this.”

“The Priestess has decided,” Zifeng said unequivocally, his hand closing on Marin’s shoulder as he stood imperiously at her side. Daisuke saw the look that Marin flashed at Zifeng, but still she said nothing.

Daisuke shook his head in irritation and stalked out. On an impulse, he swiped the flask of wine from the tray as he passed. He had a feeling he was going to need a stiff drink.

~~~~~

The sky had grown dark while they were arguing, and Daisuke took a swig straight from the flask as he sprawled in the garden and stared up at the stars. Why did it feel like there were less of them than there should be? He gulped down another mouthful and tried to remember the star chart over his bed at home. When he tilted his head further back to find the Pole Star it seemed dimmer than it should be, the sky around it clouded and empty, but he couldn’t tell if that was the alcohol or not.

He felt someone move behind him, and knew it was Marin even before she sat down next to him with a sigh.

“Drinking alone out here?” she asked, with a disapproving look at the flask still in his hand. “What on earth was all that about in there? I would have thought that you of all people would be breaking your neck to get this over with and get home.”

Daisuke shrugged. “His Lordship just gets on my nerves sometimes.”

“So you’d be willing to screw up our chances of getting home just to score points off Zifeng?” she asked. “You really are an idiot.”

Daisuke’s mouth twisted mockingly, “ _Yes, Zifeng. No, Zifeng. Zifeng, my hero_. You obviously don’t feel happy about traipsing off to Mt Daichi, so when are you going to say something?”

“That’s for me to decide,” she said. “Zifeng is just trying to do the right thing.”

“Yes, he is,” Daisuke agreed, downing another mouthful from the flask.

“He’s a good leader.”

“Yup.” Another drink.

“He’s twice the man you are,” she snapped at him, and Daisuke glared at the flask.

“And yet,” he said with careful emphasis, “you’re out here with me, and not in there making plans with His Lordship.”

Marin reached over and wrenched the flask out of his hand, tilting her head back as she took a huge swallow and pulled a face.

“Gah! How can you drink that stuff?”

“You’ll get the hang of it.”

“I don’t have an alternative to Zifeng’s plan,” she said. “Besides, I’m not going to get the answers I need running all over the place. Tai Yi Jun has the complete Records of the Four Gods in her library, and that’s the best source of information that I know of in this world if we’re going to find out what’s happening to the gods. So we’re going to Mt Daichi to look at the Records.”

He subjected that to some thought.

“Fair enough,” he conceded reluctantly. “But you didn’t mention all that to His Lordship.”

Marin shrugged uncomfortably. She took another swig, with another shudder, and Daisuke settled back into the grass, reaching over to take the bottle back. He tipped it, noticing that Marin, for all her distaste, had knocked back a fair amount. She lay down beside him, staring up at the stars.

“Everything feels… fuzzy.”

“A third of a bottle will do that to you.”

Daisuke tipped his head sideways to watch as Marin held up a hand to the horizon, tilting it until the stars shone between her fingers.

“Have you ever noticed they’re the same here? The stars, I mean. Look, I can see Xuelian’s willow.” She traced the shape unsteadily with one finger.

“And that’s the annoying prick constellation,” Daisuke pointed out Tamahome, glittering in a nearby cluster. Marin giggled.

Daisuke’s hand dropped.

“You all have your place in this. I still don’t know what I’m doing here. What’s my role in all of this?”

There was a long silence.

“Zhang Yong is convinced that you’re here to sabotage us,” she confided, pressing her fingertips to her mouth as another giggle escaped. Daisuke tilted his head at her, but for once his expression was serious.

“Is that what you think?”

Marin turned her head on the grass to look at him.

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Marin? Not that I don’t agree with you, but how come you were so sure that I’m not the talisman of Suzaku?”

“It’s ridiculous,” she said eventually, and reached for the bottle of wine again. Daisuke moved it slightly out of her reach.

“Do tell.”

“It was a stupid mistake,” she insisted, and Daisuke frowned up at the stars.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said drily.

“Not you.” Marin’s voice was a little slurred, and she reached for the bottle again. This time he didn’t stop her, and she knocked back another long swallow. “Stupid Suzaku got my stupid wish wrong. Zifeng was supposed to be the answer.”

As Marin lifted the bottle again, Daisuke rolled over to his side, propping himself up on his elbow to stare at her.

“So you made one of three wishes, and I turned up instead of Zifeng,” he summarised carefully. “What exactly was the wish, then?”

“Nuh-uh.” Marin waved the bottle unsteadily in his direction. “I may be drunk, but you are not getting that one out of me. It’s a stupid theory, anyway. There’s no way you’re the answer to my wish. And anyway, I didn’t get as far as making the wish. The ceremony didn’t work.”

She staggered to her feet, her eyes going wide as she realised just how unsteady she was.

“Lightweight,” Daisuke said affectionately.

In the distance, he could hear the noise of the village festival, and faint points of light bloomed in the far-off darkness below them as the lanterns were lit, red, gold and white. The first firework exploded, painting the blackening sky with glittering flowers.

Daisuke felt the thunder resonate through him, sparking something. Another explosion of brilliance shook the sky, and Daisuke’s grin grew wider. He got to his feet. The alcohol was a warm fire in his blood.

Abruptly, he turned to Marin, his grin bright with mischief.

“Come on, let’s go find the fireworks.”

Marin just stared at him.

“You’re kidding.”

“There’ll be candied fruit,” he wheedled, turning the big hazel eyes on her that used to get what he wanted out of his mother. “And dancing and lots of lanterns.”

Marin glanced down the stone pathway behind her, and uncertain expression in her eyes. “But Zifeng said we shouldn’t go down to the village alone.”

“How dangerous can it be?” Daisuke scoffed. “Besides, we’ll be back before anyone even notices we’re gone. His Lordship will still be orating for ages yet.”

Marin shifted uneasily, and bit her lip. He stepped backwards in the direction of the manor gates, one hand held out to her.

Marin rolled her eyes at him, but her hand met his and she followed him, protesting as he broke into a run dragging her with him, but there was a laugh in her voice and a spark in her dark eyes. They pelted past the guards at the gate, ignoring the call to halt, and ran down the path towards the noise and the lights.

~~~~~

As they reached the edge of the village, Daisuke stopped and Marin crashed into him, still unsteady on her feet. She giggled as he caught her. A cluster of children ran past them, screeching and waving strings of crackling sparks.

There was noise and colour and light, people crowding the streets and lanterns swinging brightly over everything. Daisuke could hear a drumbeat in the distance, and the sound of people clapping. The street in front of them was lined with tiny little stalls and vendors calling cheerfully at them to try their fish balls, buy their flowers, buy a trinket for the pretty lady…

For some time, they simply moved through the crowds, Marin looking at everything with bright interest, and Daisuke watching Marin. He snagged a candied plum on a stick from one small cart, handing a coin to the young boy guarding it, and presented the plum to Marin with a flourish.

“I did promise you candied fruit,” he grinned, and Marin fixed him with a suspicious look.

“Dare I ask where you got the money from?”

“Probably not. Let’s just say that His Lordship will never miss it,” Daisuke said innocently.

“Thief.” But she took the plum, and didn’t say anything when Daisuke was stopped by a tiny old woman with a basket almost bigger than she was on her back and wreaths of flowers hooked over her arm. Daisuke had no idea what the old lady was saying to him as she held out a handful of flowers and poked him in the chest with one wrinkled finger, but her meaning was clear, and he fished out another coin, settling the wreath of scarlet fireflowers on Marin’s dark hair. Marin looked up at him and laughed.

“I must look like an idiot,” she said, but there must have been something in his face because her expression changed. “Daisuke? Is everything alright?”

He was saved by another explosion and the gasp of awe from the crowds, and he looked up into the glittering red sparks raining across the dark sky.

“Come on.” Daisuke grabbed Marin’s free hand before she could push for an answer, and started tugging her towards the fireworks.

“Why do you need to get so close to them?” she complained, but she was smiling and she didn’t resist. “You can see them just fine from back there.”

“I want to go where I can _feel_ them,” he wheedled. The village was behind them now as Daisuke found their way along a path that led over the bridge. There were still people around them, but the crowds thinned out as they crossed the bridge. Further out on the water, they could see a wide barge and they were close enough to make out the shadowy figures scurrying backwards and forwards on it, and the brief flare of light as they lit another rocket that went shooting up into the night. The explosion was so deafening that it drowned out Marin’s startled sound as she stepped backwards to collide with Daisuke. His arms closed around her to steady her.

“When I was little,” Daisuke said dreamily, “every year Mama and Dad would take us to this tiny little place, miles from anywhere, for their shrine celebration. We’d get takoyaki, and then they’d have fireworks after it got dark, and Hikari and I would try to catch the sparks as they fell, even though we knew they were way too high up. And then we got older, and I didn’t want to go all that way with my lame family to some dumb shrine for some stupid firebird. But Mama and Dad still go every year.”

He could feel another boom rumble through the wooden bridge beneath them, and his grin grew wider, turning his face up to the sparks that showered down over them.

As the fire faded, leaving an afterimage on the darkness, Daisuke sighed.

“ _One night’s east wind adorns a thousand trees with flowers, and blows down stars in showers_ ,” he said softly, and Marin looked up at him in astonishment.

“Wait, are you quoting Xin Qiji?” she asked, her face lighting up in delight. “You are full of surprises.”

“I paid attention in Classical Lit,” he protested. “I thought it might be useful for picking up girls. The ladies love a classy guy who knows poetry.”

He slanted a surreptitious look in her direction, and grinned when she rolled her eyes.

“Has it ever worked?”

“I’ve never found the right girl to try it on. Until now,” he added under his breath.

“Maybe you’re hanging around with the wrong girls,” Marin teased gently. She turned dizzily in his arms, looking up at him with that glorious smile of hers dawning.

“It would work on me,” she said huskily, and Daisuke’s breath caught.

Gazing down into her storm-dark eyes, he whispered, “ _I find her there where lantern light is dimly shed_ “, and Marin shifted on the balls of her feet, and stretched up to kiss him. It was soft and sweet, and a little clumsy, and for one long moment he let himself give in to temptation before he broke it off.

“Sweetheart, you’re still drunk,” he said reluctantly, “and tomorrow you’re going to hate me for this.”

Her smile turned a little mischievous. “After all your big talk and poetry, you’re going to draw the line at one little kiss? Is that all you’ve got?”

“You have no idea how much I want to kiss you again right now,” he sighed.

“Then do it.”

_Oh gods_ , he wanted to give in to her. He reached up and gently pushed her away, his hands still on her shoulders, and his heart broke as her smile faded. Marin stepped backwards unsteadily.

“I don’t think you really know what you want right now,” Daisuke told her.

Those beautiful eyes blazed with a sudden, furious fire.

“Don’t tell me what I want!” she cried, and smacked a hand into his chest. “You and Zifeng. You know what I want? I want to be _selfish_ for once, and let the world take care of itself for a change. I want to not have to fix everything.”

He could see tears spilling down her cheeks, and it nearly killed him.

“I wanted you to kiss me.”

She pulled away from him and stumbled across the bridge into the darkness beyond the lantern light.

“Marin!” he called after her. She was out of his sight now. There was a disturbing silence that was broken by choked cry, cut off. Daisuke started running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a translation of the poem “The Lantern Festival Night” by Xin Qiji, which Daisuke quotes to Marin in this chapter, and which I fell in love with:
> 
> One night’s east wind adorns a thousand trees with flowers  
> And blows down stars in showers  
> Fine steeds and carved cabs spread fragrance en route;  
> Music vibrates from the flute  
> The moon sheds its full light  
> While fish and dragon lanterns dance all night.  
> In gold-thread dress, with moth or willow ornaments  
> Giggling, she melts into the throng with trails of scents  
> But in the crowd once again  
> I look for her in vain.  
> When all at once, I turn my head,  
> I find her there where lantern light is shed.


	16. Raining Sparks

# Raining Sparks

This time I’m mistaken

For handing you a heart worth breaking

And I’ve been wrong

I’ve been down

Into the bottom of every bottle

These five words in my head scream

Are we having fun yet?

[How You Remind Me: Nickelback]

In the shadows past the bridge, Daisuke could see Marin, and the glint of a blade held across her throat.

“Stay… stay where you are,” the assailant told him fiercely, and Daisuke could see the faint light trembling on the sword blade held near Marin’s throat. “If you want your priestess unharmed, you’ll stay right where you are.”

Daisuke stilled, his eyes on Marin.

“Sure,” he said soothingly. He had heard the note of uncertainty under the words of command, and held onto the grim thought that if the swordsman had truly intended to harm Marin it would already be done. Marin would be safe as long as they kept talking and no one panicked. “Nobody’s going anywhere, but you might want to put that sword away.”

“Try anything, and she’s the one who’ll suffer.”

“Not me.”

Daisuke’s gaze shifted down, and that was when the assailant became aware of the little knife blade millimetres from his gut. Marin’s face was like stone, but the blade shook dangerously in her unsteady hand. It wouldn’t take much for a nasty slip. In the moment of distraction, Daisuke stepped forward quickly and gently plucked the sword from their attacker’s unpractised grip.

“You haven’t had much experience with this, have you?” he asked casually.

Now that he had the chance to look closely, Daisuke could see that the young man had the look of a scholar rather than a warrior. There was a certain softness around the edges of his long, lean frame, and he blinked myopically, a look of despair sweeping over his face as he stared down at the tiny knife. He seemed to almost collapse in on himself.

“Please,” the young man said desperately. “Please, you have to listen to me.”

“You didn’t exactly get things off to a good start here,” Daisuke pointed out. “If you want us to listen, you probably shouldn’t have pulled a sword.”

“I saw you when we reached the town earlier,” Marin said in a voice of flint. “You’re the one who’s been following us since we found Seiryuu’s temple, aren’t you? You burned down the farm.”

“I had to try and stop you, before it’s too late,” the young man pleaded. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Too late for what?” Daisuke asked him.

“My name is Huo Huan. I serve-” he stopped, his voice cracking. “I served the Priestess of Seiryuu, until the day that she summoned the Azure Dragon and He destroyed everything. It destroyed her.”

Daisuke saw the knife in Marin’s hand drop to her side.

“That is why you must listen to me, before you bring the same fate that befell Qudong down on the rest of the world.”

“Who was she?” Marin asked quietly, and Huo Huan looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. The despair in his face deepened.

“Natsumi Toyoda,” he told her. “The priestess I served was Natsumi Toyoda, and I failed her.”

Daisuke opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped, arrested by the way the colour was draining out of Marin’s face, leaving it frozen and pale.

“Natsumi,” she said, and her voice sounded odd. “Pretty girl, about sixteen, straight black hair that she always wears in a braid over her left shoulder with a sparkly hairclip, heart-shaped birthmark on her neck?”

Huo Huan gave a faint nod, his eyes fixed on Marin now.

“She didn’t make it to the student council meeting yesterday,” Marin continued, her voice still sounding strange and distant. “I thought… we all thought… she’d skipped out to meet a boyfriend.”

“You knew her,” Huo Huan breathed, and Marin gave a stiff, mechanical little nod.“We go… we went… to the same school. We’re on student council together, but she was a few years younger. I always liked her.”

“She was so sweet to me, and I would have done anything for her,” Huo Huan said, his voice wobbling a little. “I was going to be an administrator, I’d just passed the exams when Natsumi arrived, and then I found out that I was one of her Seishi. I could bring words to life with a few strokes of my brush, but all my power is gone now, and I was never worthy of it. Of her trust.”

“What happened?” Daisuke asked gently, when it became obvious that Marin couldn’t speak. “Can you tell us?”

“We performed the ritual at the Temple of Seiryuu in the Bamboo Forest, just like we were supposed to, but when He came, He… devoured her.” Huo Huan sounded like he was trying to not throw up, and Marin made a faint retching sound. “It was worse than that. It was… and then the beast god turned on the rest of us, but I… ran.”

He was shaking so hard that Daisuke put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“I’m ashamed to say that I ran, and I was the only one to survive. I made my way back to Chunfeng, because I didn’t know where else to go, but when I got there… Oh gods, the city was gone. There had been storms for days, and then Seiryuu appeared in the sky over the city with the tengu…”

“The tengu?” Marin asked sharply, and Huo Huan nodded.

“Hordes of oni, too, as far as you can see across the plains around Chunfeng. And then Seiryuu destroyed the city. Wiped it clean, and there were only a handful of people who managed to escape. I found a few of them hiding in the forest a couple of miles to the west of the city.”

“How have we not heard about this?” Marin asked, her voice cracking with horror.

“Who is left to bear the news?” Huo Huan responded dully. “Every country is dealing with trouble and strife, and there aren’t many traders on the roads willing to risk their lives, not with the demons everywhere and the gods turned against us. I’ve been hiding in the forest around the Temple, and when you turned up I knew I had to try to stop you from summoning Suzaku and bringing another god’s wrath down on our world.”

“So you tried to shoot us at the temple, and turned the villages in Qudong against us, and burned down that farmhouse with us in it,” Daisuke said, and the young man’s face collapsed even further.

“I failed at that, too. I couldn’t even do that for Natsumi, and I failed,” he whimpered.

“I’m rather glad you did,” Daisuke said drily.

There was a sudden shout behind them. Daisuke and Marin turned to face the guards bearing down on them. Huo Huan took a couple of steps backwards on the bridge, and an arrow hissed out of the air to land at his feet.

Before Daisuke could stop her, Marin had pivoted to put herself between Huo Huan and the guards, because of course she would.

“Go!” she told him. “There’s nothing more you can do here, unless you still want to kill me. I’ll fix this.”

Another arrow whistled towards them, and as Daisuke yanked Marin out of its path the Seiryuu Seishi broke and ran.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Marin shouted angrily at the guards. “You could have hit him!”

“Or us,” Daisuke muttered. Four guards closed around them, and the stone-faced captain gave Marin a perfunctory bow.

“Orders, your eminence.” He swept out an arm towards the direction she was expected to take, and Daisuke noted that the soldiers closest to him had their hands firmly on the hilts of their swords. His teeth bared in a sharp grin.

“We’re here to escort you safely back to Zhao Manor, my lady,” the captain told her implacably, once again motioning towards the road back to the estate. There was no further protest, and Daisuke followed Marin’s lead, keeping his eyes on her as they were shepherded. She was growing more and more unsteady on her feet as the buzz of the alcohol wore off and the shock of the Seiryuu Seishi’s news kicked in. Her face was as pale as snow in the dim moonlight.

As they climbed the hill, the manor house in front of them boiled with light and chaos. Purposeful lanterns bobbed to and fro, and a shout went up from the gate as they approached. Zifeng swept down the steps of the central building as Marin and Daisuke were marched across the wide paved courtyard. Marin was wilting fast, but Zifeng ignored them both for a swift conference with the captain. The captain barked an order to his men, who fell in behind him, and he executed a bow to Zifeng before he wheeled around and jogged back in the direction of the village with mail and swords clanking ominously. Daisuke could only hope that Huo Huan was better at concealment and evasion than he was at weaponry and assassination.

Zifeng’s head snapped around at the sound of another arrival, and Daisuke followed the line of his sight. Master Zhao stood at the head of the stairs. With slow, deliberate tread he descended.

“I see you have located your errant Priestess,” he said, turning to his heir, and even Daisuke could hear the unsteady breath before Zifeng answered his father.

“An insurgent tried to attack the Priestess in the village.”

Master Zhao’s impassive gaze flicked over the crowd of Seishi and guards in the courtyard, and the servants who hovered uncertainly on the edges.

“I fail to see any insurgents here,” he observed coldly. “Could it be that you have allowed them to run loose in our demesne?”

“He escaped in the confusion. Our men are searching for him now, but the captain was under my orders to secure the Priestess’ person, and I take responsibility for the decision that returning her to safety was paramount over pursuing the miscreant,” Zifeng said, his voice carefully calm.

They all startled at the sudden crack as Master Zhao backhanded his son. Zifeng rocked on his feet, and Daisuke stared as the marquis carefully shook the folds of his sleeve into place again.

“Excuses,” Master Zhao said with icy precision.

There was an awful silence, then Zifeng bowed lower, and his father turned and swept out.

~~~~~

Everyone in the courtyard was motionless in the glacial silence Master Zhao left behind, and the absence of sound was like a pressure in Marin’s head. In the middle of the frozen tableau, Zifeng stood unmoving with a look of doom laid bare in his eyes, until the first slight, nervous shifting of someone’s foot broke the spell and he turned away.

The sudden return of noise buzzed in Marin’s ears, pounding through her skull and churning her stomach, and she clutched her hands to her head to try and block it out. Then, with an ominous twist, her stomach rebelled and she bolted into the gardens. She made it as far as a hedge, mercifully out of sight of the courtyard and the milling crowd there, before heaving her guts up.

The remnants of the alcohol burned a path in her throat, and Marin found herself sobbing and retching. Someone held her hair back, a soothing voice repeating meaningless words. When Marin finally collapsed, trembling, with tears still rolling down her face, Xuelian smoothed the damp wisps of hair back from her face.

Marin was regretting everything that had happened that night, leading to this moment. She had allowed herself to get caught up in the heat of the alcohol and excitement and freedom, but the magic of that moment on the bridge was tarnished now by the acid taste in her mouth and the look in Zifeng’s eyes. The crack of his father’s hand on Zifeng’s jaw still echoed in her ears.

An unexpected wave of homesickness swamped her. Kimiko never seemed to have any trouble negotiating the complications of her love-life, and in that moment Marin wished she had some of her sister’s light-hearted insouciance.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered, and Xuelian handed her a corked flask of something to wash the taste out of her mouth.

“You need to fix things with Zifeng,” Xuelian told her with a soft ferocity. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

The doctor stood, turning to the garden path where Zifeng was watching them silently, and Marin staggered to her feet. The humiliation of the evening was complete as she walked towards Zifeng with the taste of bile in her mouth and everything about her a tangled, grubby mess. She reached up in a futile effort to push her hair into some semblance of order.

“Why did you leave the manor without telling me?”

The words were almost inaudible, but Marin could hear the bewilderment and hurt under the brittle veneer of cold anger.

“It was a mistake. I made a mistake.”

She could see his fingers curl into a fist at his side, but he bent his head in a mechanical nod of acknowledgement.

“For the sake of our bond, and the duty we owe Suzaku, I will forget this indiscretion. We won’t speak of this again,” he said stiffly. She followed as he turned and swept back towards the courtyard.

“Xuelian,” he turned his head, barely glancing at the young woman on his other side. “I need you to return Marin to her quarters. I will send my men to guard the doors, but I ask you to stay with her until I get back.”

“Where are you going?” Marin asked. He spared her a slicing glance.

“To sweep the village and find the cur who attacked you. Tian Zhen and Zhu Yi are still down in the village, looking for you.”

“And you’re just going to lock me up here?” she said incredulously. “This is ridiculous.”

Zifeng stopped abruptly and whirled on her, with the crowd in the courtyard looking on in shock.

“How can I trust you if I don’t?” he almost shouted. “How can I keep you safe?”

“There’s nothing to keep me safe from!” Marin protested.

“Someone pulled a sword on you!”

“That guy wasn’t a danger to anyone except himself. He could barely hold a sword,” Daisuke said, and Marin stepped up quickly before Zifeng could turn on him.

“I wasn’t in any real danger,” she said placatingly, ignoring Daisuke’s huff of exasperation. “Huo Huan was never going to hurt me.”

“He tried to burn that farmhouse down with us in it,” Xuelian pointed out quietly.

“He’s just scared and desperate, but he couldn’t hurt me in person. He’s one of Seiryuu’s Seishi and he was there when Seiryuu was summoned. He’s lost his priestess, Qudong is in ruins and the city is destroyed, and I think we need to listen to him before we go rushing off to Mt Daichi –”

“You actually _believe_ the guy who followed us all the way through Qudong and tried to kill us several times?” Zhang Yong protested angrily. “Just because he _claims_ to be a Seishi? You’d trust him over the command of the Emperor of Heaven? Tai Yi Jun _told_ us to come to Mt Daichi! You keep saying you’re going to fix things and summon Suzaku, and you keep finding reasons not to!”

Marin stiffened.

“And what if the same thing happens when I try to summon Suzaku again? What if the same thing happens to Hongnan?” she snapped back. “We don’t know nearly enough about what’s going on here.”

“And while you’re waiting to find out, wasting time with flirting and fireworks, people are dying,” Zhang Yong snarled.

“ _Do you think I don’t know that?”_ Marin could hear her voice rising. “One of those people was Seiryuu’s priestess. I _knew_ her, I went to school with her!”

“Enough!” Zifeng cut in savagely. “We are not abandoning our purpose on the word of a would-be assassin who claims to be one of Seiryuu’s Seishi.”

“He didn’t harm me,” Marin insisted, and Zifeng cut her off with a sharp gesture.

“I don’t care!” There was real fear under his anger. “Someone pulled a blade on you in _my lands._ That someone could do that means that I have failed you.”

“You haven’t failed me,” Marin protested, trying to find the right words. “I shouldn’t have left and gone into the village without telling you.”

“No. You should not, but I know well who lured you there,” Zifeng said in a voice that was almost as cold as his father’s, and Marin’s head shot up.

“Lured me?” she said sharply.

Without responding, Zifeng caught her upper arm as if to forcibly manhandle her towards the women’s quarters and safekeeping. He stopped short, just before he walked onto the point of Daisuke’s dagger aimed at his gut.

“I’d let go of Marin, if I were you,” Daisuke said brightly, and his hazel eyes were alight with something that looked like fury.

_“Stay out of this,”_ Zifeng snarled. “You’ve caused more than enough trouble.”

“I’m going to cause more than trouble if you don’t let go of Marin right now.”

“Daisuke –” Marin tried.

Zifeng’s mouth twisted. “Do you really think you can best me in a fight? I will not allow you to come between us.”

“Very romantic,” Daisuke said drily. His dagger was still in his hand. “But I’m not the one who’s trying to hold on to her by force. Has it occurred to you to ask Marin what she wants?”

“Do you think that will be you?” Zifeng sneered.

“Probably not, if she’s got any sense, but I think that she’s the only one who gets to decide that.”

There was a beat or two, and Marin fought down the urge to pick up the nearest rock and brain the both of them. She was starting to feel like a sideline in her own life, and her headache was returning with a vengeance.

Then Daisuke gave Zifeng a feral smirk.

“And I’m the one she kissed,” he said provocatively.

Zifeng’s sword was free of its sheath before Marin could cry out, his forehead blazing with Tamahome’s bright red rage. As he lunged towards Daisuke, Marin saw Xuelian reach out and touch Zifeng’s shoulder. His eyes rolled back, and he crumpled where he stood.

Xuelian stared down at the man sprawled at her feet.

“He’s never going to forgive me for this,” she said forlornly.

Marin spun around to glare at Daisuke. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

He sheathed his daggers and lifted his hands. “Just trying to help, sugar.”

“Don’t _ever_ help me again,” she snapped at him. “That wasn’t helping, that was provoking a fight you’ve been itching for since he beat you on the ship. Do you think I’m not capable of looking out for myself?”

“You don’t seem to be doing such a good job of it so far.” Daisuke seemed to be getting angry himself, and his eyes flashed fire. “You know you’re not happy about Zifeng’s decisions, but you’re not saying a damned thing, and now he wants to send you off to your room and lock you up like a naughty child? Are you seriously saying you’re okay with that?”

“I’m saying these are my battles to choose or walk away from, and you don’t get to fight them for me.”

She backed away before she could punch him in that annoying face of his, and pressed her hands to her throbbing temples. Xuelian was still bent over Zifeng, her face stricken as two servants knelt beside her to lift their young master and carry him back to his rooms. That was another problem that Marin just couldn’t deal with in that moment.

“I’m going to bed,” Marin said, and walked away unsteadily with as much dignity as she could still muster.

~~~~~

Zifeng became aware of his surroundings gradually. There was a strange sense of disconnection; one moment he had been drawing his sword in a red-hot inferno of fury, and the next he was trying to focus on the familiar pattern of the hangings over his bed. When he tried to move aside the quilt that had been drawn up to his chest his hand responded too slowly, shaking as he lifted it. He dropped it again.

Someone shifted in the shadows just beyond the bed and Zifeng sat up too quickly, his head swimming. Zhang Yong moved forward to steady him. The young monk’s staff was leaning against the wall near the door, and it looked like he’d been waiting there for a while.

“Are you alright?” the boy asked. “Can I get you anything?”

Zifeng frowned, and said urgently, “Where is Marin?”

“Asleep in her rooms. Meixing is with her now, and we’ve been keeping watch all night. Tian Zhen and Zhu Yi are back – there’s been no sign of the Seiryuu Seishi.”

“And the otherworld bastard?” Zifeng felt his voice go flat.

“Also under watch. We have to do something about him,” Zhang Yong said, his voice low and insistent as he took an eager step closer. “He’s dangerous. He killed a _god_ , and how in hell did he walk away from that explosion in Xilang without a scratch when the rest of us got hit? We don’t even know where he really comes from. We don’t know why he’s here, and now he’s influencing the Priestess, taking her away from us. Tai Yi Jun _promised_ me that Marin could wish everything back, if we can just summon Suzaku,” he said desperately. “Everyone the tengu destroyed, and all the damage that’s been done in Hongnan could be undone.”

Zhang Yong’s hand clenched on his staff.

“I could have my family back, if that bastard doesn’t talk her out of summoning Suzaku. It’s obvious that he’s a threat, and if Marin can’t see it-“

“She just won’t listen,” Zifeng cried, his voice cracking.

“Then we have to do something. Accidents happen,” Zhang Yong said savagely, and Zifeng met that fierce gaze, trying to take in the implications of what the boy was saying. A part of him was horrified at what Zhang Yong seemed to be suggesting. Another part of him, with a movement as imperceptible as the first stone in a rockslide, inclined his head ever so slightly.

Zhang Yong bowed, and left.

~~~~~

When Marin woke up, her head was pounding in rhythm with her thunderous heartbeat and her mouth tasted vile. She was grateful for the shutters that blocked out all but a faint rim of daylight, and in the shadows of her room she pressed her fingertips to her thumping temples. At least she no longer felt so nauseous.

She sat up slowly and carefully, and the deeper shadow of the doorway shifted. Dim light caught the red glint of Daisuke’s hair as he came towards her bed, a cup of something in his hand.

“How are you doing?” he asked softly, and she grimaced.

“Trying to stop my head from falling off.”

“At least you threw up most of it last night. You’d be feeling a lot worse this morning if you hadn’t.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“Xuelian asked Jing Yun to bring you this.” He raised the steaming cup. “I talked him into letting me do it instead. He helped me get past your watchdog.”

He jerked his head to indicate the courtyard outside where Zhang Yong was pacing fiercely. Daisuke came closer and handed her the cup.

“You might want to drink this.”

“What is it?” she asked. She sniffed the steam rising from it suspiciously, and he shrugged. She could see the flash of his grin in the gloom.

“Didn’t ask. Xuelian threw a few things in there, so it’s probably kill or cure.”

With a sigh, Marin sipped cautiously at the steaming liquid and pulled a face.

“Right now, I’m hoping it’s kill,” she said wearily, and drank off the rest of the cup before she could think better of it. Daisuke took the cup from her, but didn’t leave.

“Last night -”

“Was a mistake,” she cut him off, not daring to look up at him. “It was a mistake to leave the manor. I shouldn’t have had that drink, I shouldn’t have gone into the town, and I definitely shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Then why did you?” he asked, sharp with frustration.

“I-” she broke off, then started again, trying to make her voice sound certain and strong. “Zifeng and I belong together.”

“Then what the hell was all that on the bridge? And don’t tell me it was just because you were drunk.”

“Do you really think this is the time to be talking about this?” she cried, pressing her hands to her head as it pounded. “Right now, I just want everyone to go away and leave me to suffer in peace!”

There was another presence in the room.

Zifeng stood there in the doorway, watching them both, an icy distance wrapped around him like a cloak. He said nothing for a long moment, his aloof gaze fixed on Daisuke, who met him with something that was less of a grin and more a savage baring of his teeth.

Marin swung her feet over the side of the bed, wincing as the incautious movement hammered at her skull, and slowly stood up. She was very aware of the dishevelled appearance she was presenting in that moment.

Zifeng’s gaze swept over her as if she was hardly worth noticing.

“We leave for Mt Daichi tomorrow morning,” he informed her. “Assuming you are well enough for the journey.”

Marin sucked in a breath, wrapping her arms around herself and fought to meet his eyes. She gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Zifeng turned and left, and Marin shivered slightly. She looked away to find Daisuke’s hazel eyes fixed on her with a dark, dangerous fury in them that she’d never seen before.

Before Marin could say anything, Daisuke stepped backwards towards the door, his free hand lifted in surrender.

“Whatever the Priestess chooses,” he said bleakly, and walked away.


	17. Fevered Dreams

# Fevered Dreams

Be careful making wishes in the dark

Can't be sure when they've hit their mark

And besides in the meantime I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart

[My Songs Know What You Did In the Dark: Fall Out Boy]

Marin had never felt as uncomfortable in the presence of her Seishi as she did the next morning when they all gathered to set out for Mt Daichi. Her hangover was mercifully gone, but the overwhelming sense of guilt and shame was strong, and under it all there was a thread of anger. One slip, one moment when she let go, and now they were all eyeing her as if they were trying to work out when she might crack and destroy them all.

Zifeng was stiff and silent at her side as the gates of Zhao Manor closed with a solid thunk behind them. She had expected that. And Xuelian hedged her in on the other side. Marin felt her teeth gritting. Did they think that she was going to break and run?

When she glanced back over her shoulder Marin could see Zhang Yong hovering too close to Daisuke, a perpetual glare on his face and his hands gripping his staff purposefully. Daisuke didn’t seem to be paying him much mind, but if Zhang Yong kept it up then there would probably be blood shed before they made it to Tai Yi Jun’s stronghold.

The trees arced over their heads, casting a green light on Zifeng’s robes in front of her. The path crossed the stream where it narrowed, and Zifeng held out a hand to help her across without meeting her eyes. He still hadn’t looked in her direction, and Marin wasn’t sure what she would or should say if he did. He was treating Xuelian to cold silence as well, and the doctor looked as though she’d had a death sentence passed on her.

As they silently climbed the path, Marin could hear Meixing giggling behind them at something Tian Zhen said, and Daisuke swearing faintly as he slapped at another insect bite, with a jeering response from Zhang Yong.

“Why _him_ , of all people?” Zifeng said suddenly, so quietly that Marin almost wasn’t sure she’d heard anything. His gaze was still fixed on the path ahead. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, nothing I wouldn’t give you. He mocks you, and fails to treat you with the respect you deserve, and yet you went with him.”

Zifeng finally looked at her, and the stony resolve in his eyes was unnerving.

“You belong with me,” he said in a fierce undertone. “The gods themselves have brought us together, and no otherworld bastard is going to change that.”

He pulled away, leaving her as he stalked ahead in solitary hostility. When Marin glanced up, she found Xuelian beside her, picking her way over the rough path. The two girls walked in silence for some time.

“You kissed Daisuke,” Xuelian said quietly, and the look she shot at Marin was loaded with judgement. “You know what’s at stake here. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I don’t _know!_ ” Marin took a steadying breath. “I wasn’t thinking. I was just caught up in the fireworks and the festival, and then he hit me with that grin of his, and I wanted…” _That smile that practically invited her to trouble, the light in his eyes that made her feel that it would all be worth it. And for one magic moment, when she kissed him, it had been._ “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“How could you do that to Zifeng?” Xuelian asked fiercely. “When he’s done so much for you.”

“I _know_.”

Silence fell between them again. Most of the group were out of sight around the bend between the trees. Tian Zhen had fallen behind out of ear-shot, scanning for potential threats following them.

Xuelian said softly, “What is Daisuke even doing here? I know he comes from your world, but ever since he came you’ve been distracted and turning away from Zifeng. You and Zifeng were so much in love. What’s happened, Marin?”

Marin drew a shuddering breath. How could she even begin to explain to Xuelian that what she felt for Zifeng had always been an uncomfortable sense of what _ought to be_? That he was every girl’s dream, that everyone knew that they belonged together, that the fate of the world rested on it being so. Those things were true, and so Marin must be in love with Zifeng. It was inevitable. And yet.

“At Suzaku’s temple,” she admitted slowly, “I wished for true love. I wanted to feel what the poets write about, and all the things my younger sister talks about every time she falls for another boy. I thought Suzaku would help me feel that deeply about Zifeng. But then Daisuke dropped out of the sky, and now I don’t know what I feel.”

“You’ve already made a wish?” Xuelian asked, horrified.

“I didn’t say the words! It wasn’t a true wish, but… what if Suzaku was listening, and that was His answer?”

Xuelian was looking at her in dismay.

“Then… what are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry,” Marin said wearily. “I’ll keep my promises, to all of you and to Zifeng.”

They walked on in silence, and Meixing had just come up beside them when Xuelian suddenly asked, “What do you see in him?”

The princess looked from Xuelian to Marin, her eyes bright. “Who are we talking about?”

“How can you even look twice at someone like Daisuke when you have Zifeng devoted to you?” Xuelian asked, but Meixing was the one who answered.

“Are you joking? With those hazel eyes of his, and don’t you just want to run your hands through that hair of his? He’s so gorgeous! Not in a pretty-pretty way like Zifeng, but a bit rougher,” Meixing said with enthusiasm, bouncing on her toes a little. “He acts like a troublemaker, but underneath he’s really sweet.”

“Sweet?” Xuelian said sceptically, and Meixing nodded brightly.

“Well, he is to me.” The princess gave a fluttery sigh, one hand pressed dramatically to her cheek, and Marin couldn’t help a smile.

“He’d have to be heartless to not be sweet to you,” she told Meixing.

“He’s not sweet to you,” Xuelian said over the princess’ head, her voice flat, and Marin fell silent.

Xuelian was still watching her, waiting for her response, but how could Marin possibly explain the way that Daisuke made her feel? The way he’d push her and grin at her like she’d given him a gift when she pushed back, and how _good_ that felt. The way he set her world on fire and how much she wanted to feel it burn after all those years of chasing cool perfection. The way he felt like the answer to every question she’d ever asked.

“I’m not looking at anyone,” Marin said tonelessly, and shifted her eyes back to the path ahead of them. “I have Tamahome.”

~~~~~

The weather had been good. The scenery was delightful, and the path they had followed had been untroubled by demons or rogue Seishi. And Marin felt more exhausted than she had by all the mountains they’d scaled and deserts they’d waded through by the time Zifeng called a halt for the night. Marin rummaged through her pack with unnecessary force, yanking out a book that she had carefully buried under other less important things.

“I’m going for a walk,” she muttered. Zhu Yi started to get to his feet.

“Sit down!” she snarled, and Zhu Yi froze, his eyes widening then turning cautious. “I don’t need a minder. I’m not going out of reach, and if anyone follows me I will end them.”

Catching the concerned exchange of glances between Xuelian and Zifeng did not help her mood at all. If she didn’t get a few moments to herself there was the strong chance that her first wish to Suzaku would involve homicide. She could still hear the faint sounds of her companions when she came to a halt, but at least they were out of sight for the moment. Marin suppressed the urge to scream, or punch a tree, and opened the book. It could not be said, however, that she actually took anything in, and the fifth time she found herself staring at the same words she dropped it into her lap with a sigh.

How had everything become so complicated? Daisuke was like a one-man force of chaos incarnate. Or maybe she was the one who had broken everything because she was incapable of falling in love properly. It should have been so easy; Zifeng was every girl’s dream prince, and her sister would have been smitten from the start if she had been the one to stumble into the book. Maybe it should have been Kimiko.

“What are you reading?”

Marin startled, catching at the book as it tumbled out of her lap, and she scowled at Daisuke. He was standing at the edge of the tree’s reach, his hands tucked into his belt. The shadows of the tree had shifted, and Marin became aware of how much time had passed.

“I know you’re not done being angry, but someone had to let you know that dinner’s ready.”

“And they sent you to get me,” Marin said drily. “Were you the sacrificial victim?”

“Well, Zhang Yong would be just as happy if you stuck your knife in me,” he conceded. “But they didn’t exactly send me. I didn’t bother to mention where I was going. His Lordship would have got all bent out of shape if he knew.” He nodded at the book emblazoned with a gilt firebird in her hands. “Where did that come from? I thought all the Suzaku books went down with the ship.”

“I found it in the Zhao Manor library.”

Daisuke’s eyebrow lifted. “And Master Ice King just let you take it? I would have thought that the world would end before he’d let anyone lay hands on one of his precious family treasures.”

Marin shifted uncomfortably, trying to get some feeling back into her legs.

“He must really like you.”

“I didn’t ask. I stole it,” she muttered, goaded into confessing. Daisuke’s face lit up with that infuriatingly heart-stopping grin of his, and he laughed.

“Brains, beauty, and criminal tendencies. You are the perfect woman.”

The grin faded as Marin looked away.

“We’d better head back before Zifeng and Zhang Yong assume that I’ve kidnapped you and come looking for us,” Daisuke said, all the humour leeched out of his voice. He turned and started walking back towards the camp, not looking around when Marin dropped down from her branch and caught up. She grabbed his arm, and he came to a halt.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, and that did get him to turn to her. The look in his eyes was one of pain and resignation that cut her to the heart. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you have no idea what’s at stake.”

He made a sharp gesture with one hand, quickly reigned in. “Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea. I just don’t think it’s worth it, if it means reducing you to nothing more than some sort of pure and noble sacrifice. But you think it is, so there’s nothing I can do. I promise I won’t make any more trouble between you and Zifeng, although I still want to punch His Lordship in his perfect face.”

That strange look was gone, shuttered behind the quick grin he flashed at her.

“So are you going to tell me what you were reading?” he asked, and Marin accepted the change of subject.

“It’s an Imperial account of your mother’s arrival in Hongnan,” she said, slanting a sideways look at him as he winced.

“I think there’s a few errors in the translation, though.” Daisuke gave her a look of enquiry, and she kept going. “There’s a bit that says that her matchless grace was equal only to her… appetite? That’s got to be a mistranslation, right?”

“I don’t know about matchless grace, but Mama does eat like a horse,” Daisuke said drily. “You have no idea how weird this feels.”

“That your parents were epic heroes literally out of a book?” Marin teased.

“Look who’s talking. It does make sense of a few conversations I overheard growing up.”

They were laughing as they entered the circle of the camp, but Marin felt her smile fade in the chill of Zifeng’s unwavering regard, and the blowtorch look of fury that Zhang Yong turned on her before he swung around to sit with his back to her.

Marin left Daisuke’s side to take a bowl of stew that Meixing was holding out to her, and she sat next to Zifeng, uncomfortably conscious of his rigid form beside her and the space between them as she ate and said nothing.

~~~~~

Daisuke stayed true to his word and kept to the far side of the campfire, laughing at something Jing Yun said without actually being aware of what it was. Through the gathering gloom and the haze of the fire, he was aware of Marin sitting stiffly next to her destined love. She was wearing what he thought of as her Mona Lisa smile, wary and tight-lipped, giving nothing away, and it felt as though his heart was breaking to see it.

Zhu Yi said something beside him, filling his cup from the flask that was doing the rounds, and Daisuke gulped it down without really tasting it. Zhu Yi just shook his head and refilled the cup for him. When Daisuke raised the cup again, he realised that it was trembling in his hands and he looked down in surprise. As he looked up again, the campfire blurred and the tongues of fire turned into a golden snake watching him with reptilian eyes. He blinked. The snake morphed into a dragon that scattered upwards in bright sparks and vanished just as intense pain twisted his gut and he dropped the cup to clutch at his stomach in agony.

“Daisuke?” he heard Marin say as if from a very long way away. “Daisuke, are you alright?”

Pitch swallowed the stars, and heat consumed him. The last thing he saw as he fell into flaming darkness was a strange look of horror on Zifeng’s normally impassive, annoyingly perfect face.

Time lost all meaning and turned back on itself as hot wings of fire swept over him and everything convulsed in pain. He had no idea how long the pain lasted. In the swirl of fiery delirium, he could hear the sound of someone crying and he tried to reach out to them, but another flash of agony lanced through him and his back arced in pain.

After hours… days… aeons of excruciating heat and dizzying torment, the blaze of fever died down for a moment, leaving him drenched in sweat and shaking and briefly lucid.

“Poison,” Marin’s voice was saying, soft with horror.

“It must be,” Xuelian answered from somewhere behind him. “This is not natural, and the fever alone should have killed him, but if he can survive that then it should burn the poison out of him.”

He opened his eyes to find Marin bending over him, her cheeks wet, and he reached up with one aching, shaky hand.

“You do care,” he teased in a voice that sounded shredded and hoarse. His eyes shifted to the disturbing darkness above them. “There’s something wrong with the stars. Someone’s eaten them.” Then the fever swept over him and unconsciousness claimed him one more time.

~~~~~

When Daisuke collapsed, Zifeng knew a moment of frozen incomprehension as his deepest, vilest, most buried wishes played out in front of him. _Accidents happen,_ a jeering voice whispered, and he had a nightmarish memory of his own slow nod. _Accidents happen_ , Zhang Yong’s whisper reminded him.

He jolted back to himself when Marin cried out and Xuelian pushed past him to get to the outworlder.

As everything disintegrated and focused on Daisuke, Zifeng grabbed Zhang Yong’s arm and spun him around, marching him away from the circle of firelight and confused activity and out of earshot.

“What did you do?” he hissed, and Zhang Yong stared up at him in angry confusion.

“Only what we agreed on. It should have worked by now!”

“You poisoned him?” Zifeng said incredulously.

“But you agreed with me,” Zhang Yong protested, a note of alarm creeping in. “He was corrupting Marin and taking her from you. We had to stop him.”

“And so you poisoned him?” Zifeng repeated, his voice rising.

“What did you think I meant? That we should go to Daisuke and say ‘Please, could you stay away from the Priestess?’ and he would just leave?”

“I have to tell Xuelian. Perhaps she can cure him before it’s too late -”

“There is no cure,” Zhang Yong cut him off. “With what I gave him, he should have been dead already. You can’t tell anyone; what do you think Marin would think if she knew? You’d lose her completely.”

Zifeng’s eyes turned involuntarily to the campfire, where Marin was kneeling beside Daisuke’s convulsing form. He was losing everything anyway – his honour, his duty, his family. He couldn’t lose her too.

Zifeng’s hand fell from Zhang Yong’s arm. The young boy’s eyes narrowed, and Zifeng could read the faint contempt in them. It was nothing less that he deserved.

~~~~~

Marin stayed at Daisuke’s side, holding the compresses that Xuelian passed her to his burning skin and trying not to let herself think about how terrified she was. Sweat soaked the pallet under him and darkened his hair to blood red, and she brushed the damp strands back. The heat radiating from Daisuke felt as though it scorched her fingertips.

When Xuelian finally forced her to rest, to eat, to drink something, Marin made her way over to the campfire. She barely noticed when Zhu Yi pushed a bowl into her hands.

“How is he?” someone asked softly.

“It will be a miracle if he lives,” she said harshly, her voice thick with all the fear and fury she’d been pushing down for the past few hours. She lifted her eyes to take in the faces of her Seishi, and it felt as though she was looking at strangers. “One of us poisoned Daisuke.”

The air grew tense and silent, broken only by the faint crackle of the campfire. Xuelian moved away from Daisuke’s side to get the pot of water she’d been boiling, and her face was grim.

Eventually Tian Zhen asked, “Are you sure it was poison?”

“Very sure,” Xuelian said darkly.

“Well, it wasn’t me, so you can all stop looking at me like that,” Zhang Yong broke in with a hint of insolence in his voice. “I haven’t been near him.”

Meixing made a hiss of fury, but Marin held up her hand.

“No one has accused you of anything,” she said with iron control. Zifeng raised his eyes to Zhang Yong for a long moment, but said nothing.

“Yes, but I know what you’re all thinking, just because I don’t like him much. Maybe that Seiryuu Seishi is still following us. Or maybe this is another one of the otherworlder’s schemes. How do we know he didn’t do this to himself?” Zhang Yong pushed.

“Why would Daisuke poison himself?” Meixing asked incredulously.

“Think about it. He hasn’t died, has he? And maybe he thought he could turn the Priestess against us.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Meixing scoffed.

Xuelian shook her head. “There is no way he could have done that. It would be too risky. The dose he had in his system should have killed him.”

“But it hasn’t,” Zhang Yong insisted. “Just think about it. How did he survive?”

Marin turned and walked away before she could say or do something she would regret. It was only when she reached Daisuke’s side again and knelt down beside him to touch his burning forehead that she realised that her hands were shaking badly.

Xuelian leaned over her shoulder to pass her another herbal compress, and Meixing dropped on the other side of the pallet. The princess hugged her knees tightly, her gaze fixed on Daisuke. She let out a tiny whimper as Daisuke cried out and his back bowed again in agony. Every muscle was straining, and Marin choked down her own whimper of fear as she soothed him until the moment passed and he collapsed down onto the pallet again without ever opening his eyes. She could feel his heartbeat racing erratically under her palm.

A shadow fell across them. Marin glanced up at Zifeng, but his eyes were on Daisuke.

“Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?” he asked.

She looked back down, and said, “No. Thank you.”

“Marin, if he was poisoned-“

“Not now,” she cut him off with sharp finality. “This is not the time.”

He lingered uncertainly for a moment, but Marin kept her eyes on Daisuke, vulnerable and feverish. Eventually she heard Zifeng move away.

“He was only trying to help,” Xuelian said quietly, and Marin shot her a fierce look.

“Do you really think I’m going to let one of the two people with the strongest motives to do this anywhere near Daisuke right now?” she asked harshly. Xuelian’s expression shifted.

“After everything that you’ve put him through lately, now you’re accusing Zifeng of trying to kill Daisuke?”

“Are we so sure he didn’t?” Marin shot back, then said slowly, “No, but someone did, and I do think that Zifeng knows something about it.”

Xuelian’s calm face was the closest to angry that Marin had ever seen her.

“You may be distracted right now, but even you know that Zifeng is too honourable to ever even consider such a thing.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Meixing spoke up from where she was still huddled at Daisuke’s side, and Marin turned to look at the princess. There was an odd, stiff tension in the normally mercurial girl. It occurred to Marin that Meixing had been far less exuberant since Daisuke had taken ill.

“You may have spent a lot of time in the Palace, Xuelian, but I grew up in the Imperial women’s quarters. I know just how little it takes to turn even the sweetest, noblest person to cruelty with the right push.”

~~~~~

Two days later, when the fever finally broke, Daisuke opened his eyes and groaned with the effort. Shivering, exhausted and tacky with dried sweat, he turned his head slowly and found Marin curled up and asleep on a pallet beside him, her hand stretched out across the blanket towards him.

“She’s been watching over you for two days now. The only way I could get her to sleep was to put her there and promise to wake her up if there was any change,” Xuelian said softly, moving into his field of vision. She was holding a cup as she knelt beside him. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Daisuke croaked, and Xuelian held out the cup.

“If I help you, do you think you can drink a little of this?” she asked. “You’ve been running a punishing fever for two days, and you’re seriously dehydrated.”

It took some careful manoeuvring, but eventually the doctor managed to lift Daisuke enough to help him swallow a little of the liquid from the cup. The effort used all of his fragile energy, and when he lay down again he was shaking and drained but at least his throat didn’t feel quite so parched. Daisuke fell asleep.

When he woke up again it was morning, and Marin pulled her hand back from his forehead as he opened his eyes. He was tempted to reach out and keep her hand there, but she stood before he could do anything.

“Good. You’re awake,” she said. “Do you feel up to eating now? I kept some soup hot for you just in case.”

He struggled on wobbly arms to sit up, and nodded. Daisuke’s eyes followed Marin as she moved away, and he turned back to find the doctor watching him with an unreadable expression.

“I know she kissed you,” Xuelian told him. “Are you planning to keep chasing her?”

“I don’t think I’m in any condition to chase anything right now, do you?”

The doctor kept watching him. Daisuke sighed.

“Marin made her choice,” he said, trying to keep the note of bitterness out of his voice. “She’s going to follow her duty as Priestess and stick with Zifeng.”

“Her duty,” Xuelian said with uncharacteristic savagery. “I love Marin dearly, but sometimes I could just throttle her.”

Daisuke looked at her in surprise, but Xuelian’s attention was fixed elsewhere.

“I’ve known Zifeng since we were children,” she continued in a distant voice. “He grew up having it drilled into him that it was his purpose in life to protect the Priestess, and he’s spent his whole life trying to be worthy of her. Worthy! He deserves to be loved, not suffered as a duty.”

“Don’t we all,” Daisuke sighed.

As Xuelian turned to go, Daisuke levered himself up with painful care.

“Xuelian.” The doctor stopped, turning back to look at him. “Was it really poison?”

“Yes,” she said baldly. “It certainly wasn’t illness.”

“Could it have been accidental?”

“It’s hard to see how. It wasn’t something you ate or drank. If it had been in the food or drink, you would most likely have had more vomiting, and probably bowel flux to go with it.”

“Charming,” he said drily.

“Regardless, I don’t think you ate anything that we didn’t share.” Xuelian came back to his side. She reached down and touched a finger to the base of his neck. “And if it was accidental, I don’t know how to explain this.”

He reached up with a hand that still trembled and felt the inflamed lump there. He looked up at her incredulously.

“That?”

“That isn’t an insect bite or a thorn,” she told him clinically. “A poisoned dart or needle could have made that mark. An insect bite or sting wouldn’t have. Do you remember feeling anything odd in the past few days? Any sting or prick?”

He shook his head slowly, trying to think.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, but there’ve been so many midges and mosquitos that I’m not sure I would have noticed.”

“The telling sign is the pattern of inflammation,” Xuelian said, and she touched the base of his neck again, tracing the outline of the swelling. The shape her finger made felt like rays, or petals, radiating out and Daisuke flinched away from the painful contact. “I’ve been trying to remember where I came across a marker like that, and if I’m right then the poison that was used on you shouldn’t exist. I’ve only ever heard of it in stories and myths, and I’ve never seen a credible mention of it in any medical text I’ve ever read. Killing Seed, it’s called.”

“Well, that’s certainly what it feels like,” Daisuke said, lying back down again. Everything still felt wobbly.

“No, you don’t understand. What few rumours there are all say that it’s invariably fatal, a tiny amount is all it takes, and there is no antidote. It’s so rare that it’s regarded as a myth. Every text or physician I ever heard mention it talks about it as something that doesn’t exist. If this was a deliberate attempt on your life, and if Killing Seed was the poison used, then that leaves a few deeply disturbing possibilities,” Xuelian said. It was hard to disagree with that.

“But… how? Who?” he said, more to himself than to her. Even with his head thumping with a lingering headache, he had a pretty solid theory about that.

“It could have been anyone. You aren’t exactly universally popular.”

“No?” he asked in mocking dismay. “And I’ve tried so hard to get everyone to love me. I suppose the obvious suspects are Zhang Yong and Zifeng. They’d both happily see me dead.”

Xuelian made a swift movement of denial.

“Not Zifeng,” she said sharply, and Daisuke gave her a curious glance. She repeated more calmly, “Not Zifeng. I know you don’t like him, but he would never act so underhandedly, no matter how much he hated you. I’ve known him all my life, and there isn’t a dishonourable bone in his body.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Daisuke asked gently, and she brushed his words away with a quick gesture of her hand.

“It could have been me,” she deflected the conversation.

“For what reason? If you wanted me dead, I’d be dead. And the only reason I can think of that you might want me out of the way is so ridiculously altruistic that it’s not even worth considering.”

“Maybe I don’t like that annoying smirk of yours,” she suggested drily, and he grinned at her.

“What I want to know,” Daisuke said slowly, “is where did he get that poison from?”

Xuelian shot him a swift look.

“You know who administered the poison.” It wasn’t a question. And there was really only one name left.

“I know. It gets kind of suspicious when someone goes from shunning me to dogging my heels right before I collapse from a lethal dose. He’s just not that subtle. But I doubt that my would-be assassin could have just picked up a mythical poison by the side of the road,” Daisuke speculated, and Xuelian shook her head.

“No.”

“Which brings me back to the question, who supplied it? I have a feeling there’s more going on here than someone being pissed off with me.”

~~~~~

Daisuke waited until he was feeling stronger and they were back on the path to Mt Daichi before he found a way to corner Zhang Yong, falling in beside him as the rest of the Seishi moved ahead.

“I’m beginning to think you’re avoiding me,” Daisuke said conversationally, and the young monk startled, his knuckles going white where he gripped his staff. “Anyone would think you’ve got a guilty conscience.”

Zhang Yong sneered. “Maybe I just can’t stand your arrogant face.”

“I think that’s pretty well established.”

Zhang Yong quickened his pace away from him.

“You probably don’t want this conversation where everyone can hear it,” Daisuke pointed out.

Zhang Yong shot a glance down the track to where Marin was walking with Meixing and Xuelian, and his footsteps slowed. He glared at Daisuke, but there was a hint of fear in his eyes.

“I’m not going to waste time asking if you tried to kill me,” Daisuke told him. “I’m not even going to ask why, although if you thought that killing me would help your cause with Marin any, then you’re a bigger idiot that I thought.”

“How is she going to find out?” Zhang Yong sneered. “She may have her suspicions, but she hasn’t said anything, and if you were going to tell her you would have already done it.”

“I don’t have to. In case you missed it, she’s a smart girl, and I’m pretty sure she’s already figured it out for herself. Did you really think trying to kill me was going to achieve anything other than pissing her off?”

“Marin’s changed, and she’s not listening to us anymore. You’ve clouded her judgement,” Zhang Yong summed up, a growl in his voice.

Daisuke snorted. “Has it ever occurred to you that Marin might be seeing things more clearly than any of you?”

“Ever since you showed up everything’s gone wrong. If you’re really who you say you are you’d be helping us get to Tai Yi Jun and summon the beast god so you could get home, but you don’t act like that’s what you want. You keep pushing her to go against everyone, when even the Great Sage is telling her what she needs to do, but it’s _my world_ that’s going to be destroyed if she doesn’t summon Suzaku!”

The boy was breathing hard. “And if you think I’m just going to sit back and let you steal Marin away from Zifeng -“

Daisuke felt a feral snarl ripple through him, and saw Zhang Yong’ eyes widen slightly at the sound.

“Oh, I’m well aware that you have plenty of reasons to want me dead,” Daisuke said dangerously. “But I don’t think that you came up with that little scheme all on your own.”

He stalked towards Zhang Yong, his grin sharpening, and took a savage pleasure in the way Zhang Yong stumbled back a step.

“What I want to know is, _who gave you that poison?_ ”

~~~~~

At the sound of a disturbance back on the path, Zifeng turned in time to see Zhang Yong gripping his staff tighter, raising it as if preparing to strike. Daisuke was facing him, that insolent half-grin on his face, and as Zifeng strode towards them, Daisuke’s glance swept sideways to include him.

“You tried to kill me,” Daisuke said dangerously. His stance was relaxed but Zifeng was well aware of the muscles tensed and ready to act, and the hands hovering close to his dagger hilts. “I think you really do believe you’re protecting Marin, and I can sympathise with that, but I’m not the threat here unless you make me one.”

Guilt fuelled Zifeng’s voice as he snarled, “Stay away from Marin. She belongs with me.”

Zifeng was expecting a challenge and that cocky grin, but when Daisuke turned to meet him there was something dark and ruthless burning in the depths of his eyes. Zifeng’s breath hissed out as Daisuke took a step towards him. For the first time, Zifeng had a sense that this was a very dangerous man.

“She belongs wherever she says she belongs,” Daisuke said implacably. “You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you? I don’t give a fuck what you want, or what you think. _She chose._ But she can always change her mind.”

Daisuke’s eyes burned with a relentless fire.

“And I will do whatever it takes to give Marin what she wants.” The threat wasn’t subtle as Daisuke’s fingers curled over the hilts of his daggers. Zifeng stiffened, and he shook off the strange compulsion in Daisuke’s gaze.

“We fought once,” Zifeng said coldly. “Do you truly think you could best me?”

They both heard the purposeful sound of Marin’s approach, and Daisuke’s expression shifted into that familiar, cocky grin.

“Well, I’ve had a bit of practice with these since then,” he said, patting the golden firebirds on his dagger hilts. “I don’t imagine you’d be much harder to kill than a god. But Marin would be pissed, so let’s not find out, hmm?”

He shot a smirk over his shoulder at the distrustful look Marin was giving him.

“It’s okay,” Daisuke told her. “Nothing’s going to happen to me if you take your eyes off me for five seconds.”

Marin flushed, and Zifeng felt his heart crack.

“If you get yourself poisoned again, I’ll kill you myself,” she told Daisuke.

“That’s fair.”

Zifeng watched Marin’s eyes follow Daisuke as the otherworlder strolled away. The look Marin turned back on Zifeng and Zhang Yong was considerably less forgiving.

“What was all that about?” she asked suspiciously. Neither of them volunteered an answer, and she turned to follow Daisuke back to the rest of the Seishi who had stopped further down on the path, watching what was going on in concern.

Zifeng caught at Marin’s wrist and she froze.

“Surely you don’t think that I could have done this?”

Marin looked up at him, her face giving nothing away. Finally, she said slowly and carefully, “I have no reason to think so.”

Then her expression changed, and Zifeng flinched at the iron in her voice. “You and I are bound, but I tell you this - if _anything_ else happens to harm Daisuke, I will walk away and let this world _burn_ before I do anything to save it.”

The sweep of her glance took in Zhang Yong, frozen and startled.

“You don’t mean that,” Zifeng said uncertainly, but Marin stepped backwards, and he let her go, watching her walk away to where Daisuke was sitting by the campfire.

Zhang Yong shook himself free of his shock.

“You see?” he said fiercely to Zifeng. “You see what that outworld bastard is doing? He’s turning her against us, and if he does, how will I get my family back?”

“I will not lose her to him,” Zifeng said, and the steel in his eyes almost masked the fear in his heart.


	18. Closing In

# Closing In

Devil underneath your grin, sweet thing, bet you play to win, heaven gonna hate me

[Not Afraid Anymore: Halsey]

By the time they reached the foothills of Mt Daichi the tension among the Seishi was palpable. Marin was keeping herself at a distance, and it made Daisuke darkly pleased to note that she was avoiding Zifeng as well. His eyes swept over the rest of the Seishi and settled on Zhang Yong up ahead of him.

The boy had to have got the poison from someone. Someone capable of putting their hands on a lethal poison so obscure and hard to come by that it was practically a myth. More importantly, it was someone who had been in contact with Zhang Yong even while he was wandering across four countries with the Priestess and her Seishi. Which meant the Seishi themselves, or… Daisuke focused on Zhang Yong as the boy climbed the path, and he frowned.

The attacks in Qudong had been directed at the Priestess, and had come from Huo Huan, but if Marin’s theory was correct then Byakko and Seiryuu, and possibly Genbu, had been out to kill Daisuke and not the Priestess, and that poison had unmistakeably been for him. By Marin’s reckoning, most of the threats they’d faced had actually been aimed at Daisuke, and didn’t that bring up some interesting ideas. Someone wanted him dead. Someone powerful. Someone, maybe, who could influence the gods. But why?

Around another bend in the path, the trees suddenly opened, and Mt Daichi rose like a dream in front of them.

The landscape stretched above them in great sandstone fingers touched with green that disappeared into the sky far above. Daisuke found himself tilting his head back constantly as he walked, trying to make sense of the dizzying, fragile spires of stone. As they kept climbing, the air grew thin and damp, wisps of mist clinging and drifting away.

Finally, around a turn in the mountain path, a wall of rock rose above them, vast and intimidating, closing out the sky. They came to a stop, staring up at it in silence. The path kept going, and it had been worn smooth by use or by design into something that looked almost like steps, until it disappeared between a huge cleft in the rock like a keyhole into the sky.

Without a word, they shouldered their packs again and began the climb. As they passed under the vast rock arch, Daisuke could see from the faces of his companions that he wasn’t the only one feeling daunted. After the dim green of the forests below, the shock of blue when the mountain opened up in front of them was intense. Daisuke felt as though he was perched on top of the stone spires they had been walking under. Mist curled around them, thicker now, leaving the impression that the earth below their path had vanished and they were climbing from one floating island in the sky to another, patches of green and worn rock rising out of the clouds.

The path became smoother, twisting in a narrow ribbon around the side of the mountain and clinging precariously in a way that made Daisuke’s stomach drop every time he looked out over the edge. A crude handrail ran alongside the path, rough-hewn branches that someone had lashed together to give the illusion of security as the path became steps that went up steeply in front of them. The rough handrails became stone balustrades carved into exquisite patterns and worn with time that took them across a bridge that seemed entirely too fragile for the vast distance beneath it and led to the solid form of the gatehouse beyond.

The gates stood open. They passed through the tunnel of the monolithic red structure and found themselves at the edge of an immense grey courtyard. Stories of blank shutters in scarlet scrolls and curls closed in the courtyard, but Daisuke’s eyes were drawn inevitably to the rising tiers of stone stairs on the other side of the square, and the palace looming above them like the mountain itself.

As they made their way slowly across the stone expanse, Daisuke felt the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably, but there was no sign of life or movement among the heavy balustrades and screens around them.

They were all panting harshly by the time they reached the top of the stairs, and Daisuke glanced behind him at the dizzying view of the steps dropping away and the mountain beyond disappearing steeply into the mist below. When he turned back to look up at the palace in front of them, his head spun with the red and blue and gold splendour that towered over him. He blinked.

“Welcome to the Palace of Purple Tenuity,” a soft, musical voice said, and Daisuke took an unwary step backwards in startlement. Zhu Yi caught at him before he could fall backwards down the steep stairs. He was sure that there hadn’t been anyone there a moment ago.

Someone giggled, and Daisuke scowled at the tiny little girl who stood in the vast doorway of the palace, swathed in diaphanous pink robes. She covered her mouth with her sleeve, but her eyes twinkled at him as he recovered his balance.

“Please, enter and be welcome,” the girl said, and stood aside, bowing low as she ushered them in.

It was hard to not feel intimidated by the immense hall they found themselves in, and Daisuke found himself scowling again. He thought he heard a ripple of childish giggles echoing around them, but when he glanced around there was no one there. His eyes followed the lines of the supporting pillars up into the distant ceiling, tracing the animals that curled and danced around them in colourful carvings. A serpentine tortoise looked as though it was holding up the weight of the whole temple at the pillar’s base, and tigers stalked the flirt of a firebird’s tail under the imperious stare of a dragon coiling around the girth of the pillar. Daisuke felt like there were eyes everywhere watching him.

Zhang Yong broke into a run and almost flung himself at the feet of the ancient woman waiting with unmoving patience on the dais at the far end of the hall. This was the old woman he’d seen in Zhang Yong’s mirror, and Daisuke realised with a start that she was floating on a cloud. A cluster of giggling little girls indistinguishable from the child who had greeted them hovered around her.

“Great Sage,” the boy breathed reverently, and the woman extracted one wizened hand from her sleeve to brush his cheek with her fingertips.

“You finally made it,” she rasped, her voice like cracked glass. Daisuke thought he saw something dark flicker behind her old eyes. “It took you long enough, Chiriko.”

_Someone knowledgeable. Someone powerful. Someone Zhang Yong was in contact with…_

Then she turned to look at Daisuke directly and her face crinkled with warmth as she floated closer.

“Well, you’re a handsome one, aren’t you,” she said, catching his chin in one hand to tilt his face down towards her, and he had to fight the instinct to reach for his daggers. “Even more handsome in person. Troublemaker, I’m sure.”

Her gaze raked over the group. “Suzaku’s Seishi. What a chapter of adventures you’ve had.” And finally her attention fell on Marin, her wrinkled face deepening in a smile. She held out a hand to the Priestess. “Come, dearie. Let’s take those shentsopao somewhere safe and you can tell me all about it.”

The old woman spared a glance for the rest of the Seishi, and a wave of her hand at the fairy-like girls who trailed after her. “These flibbertigibbets are Lai Lai, my handmaidens. They’ll look after you all.”

And with that, they were all dismissed from her notice. Tai Yi Jun sailed out of the hall, clearly expecting Marin to follow her. There was another flurry of nervous giggles as one of the little girls in pink popped out of the air to take Xuelian and the princess into the women’s domain, while another handmaiden materialised to usher Jing Yun, Zhu Yi and Tian Zhen back down towards the stone courtyard and the residential quarters behind the scarlet shutters. Daisuke found himself being herded along with them, and he dug his heels in. Daisuke’s eyes met Marin’s as she turned to look over her shoulder, and he was gripped with a sudden dread.

Daisuke turned and took three quick steps back, catching at Marin’s wrist before she could go any further.

“I don’t like this,” he whispered urgently. Tai Yi Jun and Zifeng had turned back to find Marin, and Zifeng strode towards them.

“What’s wrong?” Marin asked, but Zifeng’s hand closed around Marin’s arm, drawing her away.

“Lai Lai,” the old woman snapped, a sliver of anger in her grandmotherly voice as yet another little girl appeared at Daisuke’s elbow. “Take our guest to his quarters.”

He had little choice but to follow the fairy-like girl. Daisuke fought down the urge to snatch Marin back, to grab her and run and… then what? Fight his way through all the Seishi and the gods alone knew whatever Tai Yi Jun had stashed around this mountain, and go where?

He needed a plan, and Marin was the one with the plans. As he climbed the narrow staircase, he looked back to see Marin glance up at him as her escorts ushered her into another building. He had to assume that, at least for now, she was safer with Tai Yi Jun and Zifeng than she would be if he created havoc. He turned back and kept going.

At the top, the little handmaiden was waiting for him in front of a door. She tucked her hands into her diaphanous sleeves and bowed.

“Please enjoy our hospitality. My master requests most strongly that you remain in your quarters until sent for.” Daisuke could have sworn he saw an odd flash of something like fear in the girl’s eyes at the mention of her master, but it was gone too fast to be sure. “We would be most distressed should anything unfortunate happen to you if you wandered.”

“Where else am I going to go?” he said bitterly.


	19. Falling Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up and there is sexual content in this chapter.

# Falling Apart

When I was on fire

No one could save me but you

[Wicked Game: Chris Isaak, cover by Emika]

“Oh, dearie, he’s a handsome boy,” Tai Yi Jun said knowingly, sending Marin a sly glance as Zifeng’s arm went around her possessively. “But he’s trouble, that one. Don’t throw away everything you came here to do just because of a wicked smile and a pair of hazel eyes.”

Tai Yi Jun patted Marin’s hand gently, and Marin felt herself blush, shooting a swift glance at Zifeng. The young lord’s face remained impassive, but she felt his fingers tighten on her shoulder as they followed Tai Yi Jun through another doorway deeper into the palace.

The old woman waved a hand at a shrine surrounded by four huge jade statues.

“Go on, dear. They’ll be safe there,” her voice crackled with a rough chuckle. “Anyone tries to take them from the shrine, and my jade pets here would rip them limb from limb.”

Marin made her way slowly to the marble dais and climbed the shallow steps. It felt as though the hard green eyes of the statues were watching her as she slid the locket of Genbu’s priestess from around her neck and placed it carefully on the glass-smooth lacquered surface of the shrine.

She bent to take Natsumi’s hairclip out of her pack. For a long moment, Marin stared at it, her fingers brushing over the cheap diamante star pattern, then she gritted her teeth and put it firmly beside the locket. She turned back, and walked briskly to where Tai Yi Jun was waiting with Zifeng and Zhang Yong.

“You look like you need a rest before the evening meal, dearie,” Tai Yi Jun said, those twinkling, deep-set eyes regarding her. “I’ll have Lai Lai take you all to your chambers.”

Maybe it was something about Daisuke’s odd, abrupt warning, or maybe it was something in the rarified air of the mountain itself or the way it felt like the old woman was watching her a little too closely, but now that she was here at the palace Marin was suddenly feeling strangely reluctant to bring up the subject of the Record of the Four Gods. She needed that information, though, and she needed the steadying feeling of being surrounded by books. The thought impelled Marin to take a deep breath and turn to Tai Yi Jun.

“I’ve heard legends about the archive collection,” she said with a smile that felt strained. “I’d love the opportunity to see it.”

“Now, why would you be wanting to waste your time among the shelves and the dust when you could be spending it with your handsome young man here?”

“Our Priestess has never been able to resist a book,” Zifeng said almost playfully over Marin’s head, and she resisted the urge to shrug his arm off her shoulder.

“I may not get another chance after the ceremony tomorrow morning,” Marin told Tai Yi Jun. “I couldn’t pass up the chance.”

Tai Yi Jun eyed her thoughtfully, but she turned her cloud and floated back the way they’d come. Marin, Zifeng and Zhang Yong followed the old woman out of the huge central hall past reception rooms and treasure rooms and rooms hung with sacred tablets. As they stepped out into a long, open corridor of pillars that led to another pavilion, Marin said as casually as she could, “I’ve heard you keep the scroll of the Records of the Four Gods here.”

“So that’s what this is all about,” Tai Yi Jun rasped. She shot Marin a twinkling look. “You want to see the Records?”

The old woman led them over the threshold and into a library that seemed to stretch on forever. In spite of herself, Marin gasped at the sight of row upon row of bookcases in the soft light of the bronze and glass lanterns that hung from the ceiling. She pivoted on her heel, turning to look as Tai Yi Jun led them through the library, but Zifeng’s hand on her arm kept her from drifting off to examine the volumes of folios and scrolls closely.

“Later, dearie,” Tai Yi Jun chuckled drily. “Let’s find you that scroll first.”

At the far end of the endless rows of shelves, Marin caught the glimmer of light on polished metal and when she paused to look closer she could make out a huge bronze mirror. The patterns around the frame, as far as she could see, looked a little like the frame of Zhang Yong’s hand mirror.

When Tai Yi Jun realised that Marin had fallen behind, her wrinkled smile disappeared and she herded Marin past the mirror without a word. The old woman came to a stop at a table in the heart of the library. She tapped briskly on the table, and one of her little handmaidens seemed to pop out of the air clutching a huge scroll in a beautifully inlaid box.

Tai Yi Jun gestured, and the girl unravelled the scroll across the table.

“This is what you’re looking for, dearie. The history of the Universe of the Four Gods and the complete adventures of the priestesses and their Seishi.” She shot a knowing look up at Marin from her wrinkled face. “How they’ve each proved their worth to their gods.”

Marin leaned over the scroll, trying to ignore the old woman hovering just behind her.

“Master!” one of the little girls called, and Marin breathed in relief as Tai Yi Jun swept away in an impatient flurry to see what the matter was. She could hear Zifeng and Zhang Yong talking softly as they moved away to the library entrance, but she was focused on the scroll. Many of the stories she already knew. Some of the priestess’ faces were familiar now. She kept unrolling, skimming over the accounts as the script became more antique.

Get the guy, make the wishes, save the world. Over and over again, the only variation was in the details. Love and war, faith, duty. The priestesses strengthened the gods with their devotion and sacrifice.

Marin was finding it hard to breathe. The pressure of it all tightened and caught at her chest.

She was beginning to suspect that the reason that Tai Yi Jun had been so willing to show her the scroll was because there was nothing here that she hadn’t heard before. It was clear the lesson that she was supposed to take from this history – summon Suzaku, save the world – but the analytically-honed mind behind Marin’s rising anxiety was more and more aware of what wasn’t in these records, and that persistent whisper was growing louder.

Their wishes had turned back armies, fire, flood and ice ages. There had been rare cases, like Daisuke’s mother, when the first summoning had been subverted. The priestesses had faced kings and demons who had sought to overthrow the gods, but there was nothing – _nothing!_ – of what happened if the gods themselves turned against the world. The scholar’s voice in her head was shouting at her, insisting that this was significant.

Marin found herself frowning. It occurred to her that she had seen nothing about the three priestesses who had come before her. She went back to the most recent additions to the records with an uneasy feeling, skimming quickly through the flowery account of Daisuke’s parents being swept up by Suzaku’s divine benevolence, and then the text ended abruptly with a vague, fairytale mention of a time of peace and prosperity. There was nothing after that, and no mention of Tomoe or Yuki or Natsumi. Why were their stories not there?

Priestess after priestess unravelled in front of her as she wound the scroll back until the spindle rolled out to the beginning of the history and hit the table with a wooden sound. And there were the words from the beginning of the Universe of the Four Gods of Sky and Earth, the incantation that Tai Yi Jun had spoken to call the world into existance from the void.

“ _The four palaces of the heavens. The four corners of the earth…”_ she read out loud, brushing a finger over the almost illegible characters, and yanked her hand back as the silk and faded ink seemed to spark like lightning to the touch. She backed away from the scroll abruptly, and let out a muffled shriek when she found one of Tai Yi Jun’s handmaidens watching her silently. She had no idea how long the little girl had been there, and there was no hint of the giggles and fluttering in the child’s bleak gaze.

The tiny handmaiden glanced quickly towards the entrance, as if checking to make sure that no one was coming, and drifted off between the shelves, turning to beckon Marin when she didn’t follow. It occurred to Marin that Tai Yi Jun hadn’t returned after being called away by one of the little girls, and Marin trailed after the handmaiden cautiously. She found herself standing in front of Tai Yi Jun’s mirror. The little girl raised one finger to her lips, her eyes on Marin, and reached out to stroke the bronze surface.

The mirror rippled and eddied like mist. As Marin stared at it, the miasma shifted and seemed to make images that moved, and it felt as though she was sinking into them until the mirror was all around her. There were figures running and screaming, blood everywhere. Marin could smell the iron tang of it. She could feel her heart beating faster, her breathing coming harder as she tried to calm herself. This was just an illusion. It had to be an illusion.

And Marin was face to face with a girl about her own age, young and terrified and trying to hide it. She stood in the middle of a vast cavern in front of the rough tortoise and snake carving that Marin remembered from Genbu’s cave. The girl couldn’t see her.

Then something shifted and Marin was inside the girl’s head as the last words of the summoning spell fell from her mouth and the beast god filled the cavern with His divine presence. Marin saw the moment when something darker moved in like a blight and claimed the god.

Genbu rose like an implacable doom, and in His eyes was nothing but an endless, evil darkness. She faced down the malevolent horror that the god had become and Marin felt it as the darkness crashed down, crushed her, ripped her apart. The girl was gone.

The nightmare whirlwind of sand tore at Marin, and she saw another girl shove a flute into the hands of a young boy, screaming at him to _Run!_ before the winds flayed the flesh from her bones and tore her soul to nothing.

Marin was sobbing as she fell into the tangle of black and ominous growth, all light blotted out by the ancient bamboo trees that towered up into the distance, and she reached out desperately even though she knew that Natsumi couldn’t see her. Seiryuu’s priestess seemed so small in the black, bottomless shadows, and so alone, but she faced the darkness with a stiff spine. Something snatched at her and Natsumi’s mouth made a silent scream of terror, and she was gone.

Then Marin was back in the library on the mountain, standing in front of the mirror again. She gave a shudder, and fled the room, running through the narrow halls past figures who were nothing more than a vague blur. She just managed to make it out of the doors, leaning heavily over the balustrade, before she threw up.

Distantly, she could hear Zifeng and Zhang Yong’s voices behind her, asking if she was alright, but they were faded, echoing sounds drowned out by the screaming in her head as the last dying moments of those three priestesses gripped her body and purged her of everything left in her stomach.

It had been one thing to know that they had probably all died, but it was another to have seen what happened, to have felt it happen. They had been girls like her, teenagers like her who had come from the world outside Sky and Earth. She had known Natsumi, they’d gone to school together, and she had _felt_ her die in terrified, tortured agony. All of them scared, brave, determined. And gone.

“Marin?” someone was saying. “Are you alright?”

Marin ignored them, still fighting to get her heartbeat under control. She had to think. She had to _think_. There was no sign of the little handmaiden.

Someone pressed a cup into her hand, and her fingers closed around the smooth sides. Feeling divorced from the movement, she lifted the cup and rinsed the sour taste out of her mouth, and barely noticed as someone else took the cup from her again.

This was what had happened when the other priestesses had summoned their gods. Whatever she had seen in the mirror could not be allowed to take Suzaku as well.

“Marin?”

She looked up, and found Tai Yi Jun’s unwavering gaze on her.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, dearie,” the old woman said gently, and Marin lifted her chin, forcing a smile. Instinctively, she looked for Daisuke, but he wasn’t there.

“I’m fine. Really. I just… need to be by myself.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea right now,” Tai Yi Jun said, still in that gentle voice of concern. “You don’t look well.”

There were Seishi hovering at her elbow, everywhere she turned. She couldn’t think. Every time she had a flash of those girls, the priestesses, she gave an involuntary shudder, and then she’d look up to find Tai Yi Jun still watching her with that unreadable expression. Tian Zhen, Zhang Yong and Zhu Yi were there, pressed too close. And there was no sign of Daisuke.

They guided her in to dinner, and fussed over her, putting too much food in her bowl, forcing her with gentle anxiety to eat until she felt ill again. She forced herself to eat, to smile, to respond to what they were saying, because she _had_ to convince them to leave her alone for a few minutes so that she could _think_.

Zhang Yong and Zifeng escorted her to her rooms, and they finally left her briefly, blessedly alone.

Tomorrow they would be pushing her to summon Suzaku, but she knew now that that would spell disaster. Could she tell the Seishi? Would they believe her?

Oh, gods. _Daisuke_. She stumbled in sudden horror. If she refused to perform the ceremony tomorrow, if someone tried to coerce her, then Daisuke was the most obvious chink in her armour.

She felt sickened at the thought, but she couldn’t trust any of her Seishi right now. If she was right, then Zhang Yong had already proved that he was willing to poison Daisuke to get Marin to fulfil her role as priestess. What would he do if she refused? Or Zifeng? How well did she really know any of them, or what they’d be willing to do if she defied them?

Marin paced the room, her hands pressed together as she tried to think.

She had to end any chance that she would be able to call Suzaku. _Think, Marin!_ For the ceremony tomorrow they would need a sacrificial virgin priestess. And they would need the shentsopao. Two necessary requirements. Remove either of those, and the ceremony would be impossible.

Marin spun on her heel and almost ran to the temple where the shentsopao had been laid out in state. From the doorway, she could see them glittering on the high shrine, the marble dais guarded by the four large jade ogre statues. She shifted uneasily, trying to make up her mind to draw closer.

With a hideous sound of stone grating on stone, one of the ogres turned their head to fix their blank gaze on Marin, and she stumbled backwards. She caught herself on the thick doorway, and there was a grinding noise as the jade creature tracked her movements. Marin steeled herself, and took two firm steps towards the shrine and the shentsopao, and froze as the ogre raised itself stiffly from the dais. One of its fellows came to its feet, jade talons scraping on the marble, and they both watched her blankly until she backed away. They settled back into immobility.

Clearly she wasn’t going to get anywhere near the sacred objects, let alone do them any damage before tomorrow.

There was only one option left that she could see. The virgin priestess.

“Marin?”

Zifeng’s voice startled her, and she spun around.

“What on earth are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously. “You should be resting.”

“I -”

Before she could say anything further, he caught her arm in a firm grasp, guiding her back towards her rooms, and Marin didn’t resist. There was no point.

She let him steer her, and she was dimly aware of the concerned glances, and the hurried, whispered conversations that happened behind her. The boys all headed off to their separate rooms, leaving Xuelian and Meixing making bright, inane conversation that Marin ignored as the two girls settled onto the couches in Marin’s rooms instead of retreating to their own quarters. If they bothered to come up with a reason for keeping watch over her, she didn’t hear it.

For one, brief moment she considered telling Xuelian and the princess what she had learned, but while Meixing could probably be counted on to be sympathetic, Marin knew that Xuelian would spill everything to Zifeng.

She knew that one of the Seishi, probably Zifeng, was waiting outside her bedchamber, listening for her. Xuelian snuffed out the lanterns, and Marin was conscious of the doctor’s steady gaze on her as she lay herself down, counting the beats between each breath, making faint noises that she hoped would sound as though she’d fallen asleep. Was it going too far to make gentle snoring noises? In the darkness, Xuelian and Meixing settled into sleep. Marin rolled over with a sigh, and after what felt like forever she heard the sound of shuffling feet, and her guardian moved away from her door, his footsteps striding away down the corridor.

Marin lay there for another long moment, listening, until she was sure all was still. Silently, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and pattered to the door. Every tiny noise and squeak it made as she slid it open felt like thunder, but there was no one in the dim corridor beyond, and no sound of discovery. Marin gathered up the hem of her voluminous bed-robe, and started down the corridor.

The twists and turns of the palace corridors were a blur, and Marin was going by instinct, freezing every time she heard a faint noise. She hurried out across the dark expanse of the central courtyard and made her way up the narrow staircase to the balcony, reaching up to brush absently at the tears that had started falling. She came to an abrupt halt at the sight of another one of Tai Yi Jun’s handmaidens standing in front of Daisuke’s door. The little girl was watching her with those same bleak eyes.

“The Great Sage commands me to keep your companion from leaving his chambers,” the girl informed her, “and I must do as my master commands.”

There was that odd flash of a deeper dread again, and Marin drew a breath. Before she could say anything, the tiny girl moved deliberately aside. Marin stepped carefully towards the door, her eyes on Lai Lai, waiting for a reaction or for the girl to stop her, but the handmaiden simply watched her and then faded out of sight as Marin reached out a hand to the door.

She tapped gently on the frame, and had just raised her hand to tap again when the door opened and Daisuke stood there with one of his daggers in his hand, looking grimmer than Marin had ever seen him. The faint lantern light from his room cast a fiery red shadow across his face and bare chest, and before his hazel eyes lit with recognition Marin could see something dark and old in their depths that seemed out of place with the Daisuke she knew.

“Marin.”

He stepped back, holding the door open, and she moved hesitantly into his room.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he said, with a flicker of his familiar, teasing grin. He sheathed his dagger, putting it aside, and Marin let out the breath she’d been holding.

The bedclothes were rumpled, but Daisuke didn’t look as though he’d slept much, and there was a tray of uneaten food on the table nearby.

“You’re not hungry?” Marin asked, and Daisuke’s grin died.

“Not enough to risk being poisoned again. Once was enough.”

Her eyes flicked to the tray and back to Daisuke.

“You think _Tai Yi Jun_ was behind it?”

“Think about it. Someone who would be likely to know an incurable poison out of legend. Someone who could get their hands on it. Someone who’s been in contact with Zhang Yong since the day we started, and who could command Zhang Yong to do anything, even murder, and he’d do it.”

“But… why would she do that? She’s been helping us to get here and summon Suzaku.” Marin asked, still trying to put the pieces together.

“ _You_ ,” Daisuke said grimly. “She’s been helping _you_. I’m in the way.”

Marin tasted bile.

“Oh dear gods,” she breathed, and pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “Oh gods, Tai Yi Jun can’t be working with that darkness. I _felt_ what happened to the other priestesses when they summoned their gods. It was evil.” Daisuke’s hands were on her arms, anchoring her as the world spun around her. “Dear gods, it was _evil_ , and if Tai Yi Jun is involved… She’s insisting that I have to call Suzaku, but if I do, then it will take over the last beast god and there’ll be nothing left to stop it.”

“So what’s the plan? What do you need me to do?” Daisuke asked quietly. Marin swallowed, and it felt like glass shards lodged in her throat.

She said hoarsely, “Have sex with me.”

There was a long silence.

“What?”

Daisuke was staring at her as if he’d started hallucinating.

“Please.” She met his eyes. “I can’t call Suzaku if I’m not… not pure. If you sleep with me. It’s the only way I can think of to stop everything, short of doing something more terminal. And sex has got to be better than flinging myself off the mountain,” she tried to joke, but he didn’t laugh.

Daisuke turned away to push the door shut with focused care. His hand remained on the wooden frame as if he’d forgotten it was there.

Without turning around, he said in a strangled voice, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“There has to be another way. If you say you won’t summon Suzaku, they can’t make you.”

“And how long do you think that would last? If you’re right, Tai Yi Jun has already tried to kill you just to get you out of the way. How long do you think it would be before she threatened you, or one of the Seishi, to pressure me into calling the god anyway? It’s the obvious move. And I’ve seen what that… _nothingness_ will do if it claims another god.” She shuddered at the memory. “I tried to destroy the shentsopao, and I couldn’t even get near them.”

“So we run,” Daisuke suggested urgently. “You and me, right now before anyone figures out we’re gone.”

“And go where? How long do you think it would take Tai Yi Jun to find us in this world?” Marin sucked in another breath, trying to think. “I can’t leave the Seishi like this.”

“Why did you come to me?” It sounded like the words were being pulled out of him, and Marin could see the muscles in his back tense.

“Who else?” she asked, a little hurt at the thought that he was so reluctant. “Tian Zhen wouldn’t, and Jing Yun and Zhu Yi only have eyes for each other, in case you missed that. And Xuelian would never do anything that might hurt… our mission.”

There was one name that she conspicuously didn’t mention, and it hung in the air between them. Daisuke’s head bent, and the lamplight flickered like fire over the fall of his hair, and his voice when he spoke sounded drained.

“You kiss me on the bridge and then you go back Zifeng, and now here you are in the middle of the night in my room and not his. Are you trying to wreck me?”

Why not? Wasn’t that what she was doing to everyone and everything else?

“I’m not drunk this time and I know exactly what I’m asking, but I’ve been thinking and _thinking_ and I can’t see any other way to end this, and I need…” Marin swallowed down the tightness in her throat. “I need you. There’s no one else I can ask.”

He came towards her slowly and reached out, his fingertips brushing the back of her hand. He bowed his head, leaning his forehead against hers with a shuddering sigh.

“Don’t hate me for this tomorrow,” he whispered. “Please.”

She closed her eyes.

“I would never,” she whispered back.

Almost as if it was beyond his conscious thought he gathered her into his arms. Marin tangled her fingers in the warm fire of his hair as he buried his face in her shoulder.

It was awkward and a little uncomfortable, and Daisuke touched her as if he was terrified she would break. And Marin found her body and her mind at war. Every time the feel of his hands on her lit a spark, every time she began to surrender to the moment, it was doused by a cold feeling of guilt and treachery. When Daisuke hesitated, his eyes dark with uncertainty, she didn’t give him a chance to pull away. She reached up to draw him into her and moved against him, squeezing her eyes shut to block out the visions of her Seishi.

When it was over, Marin reached up to touch her fingertips to the slow tears that were rolling silently down her cheek. As her hand dropped, she found Daisuke watching her with stricken eyes.

“Thank you,” she said as gently as she could, but Daisuke made a strangled noise, dragging his hands down through his hair to cover his face.

“For what? I couldn’t have fucked that up more if I tried.”

“It was fine.”

Daisuke made another anguished sound, his palms still pressed hard to his face.

“It doesn’t matter,” she repeated tonelessly. “I know you didn’t want this, I know I’ve taken advantage of you, but you gave me what I asked for anyway, and I’m really grateful for that.”

“Of course it matters,” he groaned, his hands falling away. “That shouldn’t have been your first time. That shouldn’t have been any time with you. I was…” he broke off. The word she thought she heard him exhale was _terrified_. She had never imagined that the reckless Daisuke she was used to could look as young and vulnerable as he did in that moment. “Maybe you should have gone to Zifeng. He’s the one you’re meant to be with, isn’t he?”

Marin laughed harshly. “Zifeng would have had me locked up for my own good before I could even finish talking. Once he gets over wanting to kill me for all this, he’ll probably be thanking his lucky stars for his escape – he spent all his life waiting for his Priestess to turn up, and he gets me. I couldn’t summon Suzaku, I couldn’t make the wishes and save his country, and deep down I never wanted him the way I was supposed to,” she confessed on a hiccupping sob. “Why do you think I’ve been so scared that I was the one who screwed everything up?”

“So you kept on pretending,” he said with a sharpening edge to his voice. “Fucking hell, Marin, didn’t it ever occur to you that your Great God Flaming Feathers would know if you were faking it?”

“What else was I supposed to do? I kept trying.” Marin felt the tears rolling again, damp on her palms. “I even prayed to Suzaku to make me fall in love with Zifeng, because the Priestess is supposed to fall in love with Tamahome and I didn’t. And then you turned up and ruined everything,” she said accusingly. “I wasn’t supposed to fall for you like this.”

Daisuke fell silent beside her.

Eventually he said, “Wait, what?”

Marin felt him sit up, the bed shifting under her, and she curled in on herself.

“You’re in love with me,” Daisuke said incredulously.

“Don’t rub it in,” Marin muttered, rolling out of the bed and coming to her feet. She dried her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“Nope, you said it. Can’t take it back,” Daisuke said more cheerfully, and Marin could tell by his voice that if she turned around he’d be wearing that grin again, the one that made her want to hit him and smile back at him in roughly equal measure. She didn’t turn around.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” She bent to pick up the silken puddle of her robe from the floor. “I’m not the Priestess of Suzaku anymore and I can’t fix anything. I’d better get back to my room before Xuelian and Meixing notice that I’m gone,” she said wearily. She slid the robe over her shoulders and wrapped the crumpled ends around her tightly.

“Don’t go,” Daisuke coaxed. The bed creaked, and there was the soft sound of his feet on the floor behind her. She could hear that grin creep into his voice again when he said, “We’re all doomed now anyway, we might as well make it worthwhile.”

She spun around to glare up at him.

“Are you kidding me?” she said incredulously. “Do you really think that’s going to get me back into your bed tonight?”

“You said it yourself, you’re not the Priestess anymore,” he said. That maddening grin faded. His eyes met hers, dark gold with a sincerity that nearly floored her. “It doesn’t matter what you’re supposed to do or who you’re supposed to be with. The only thing that matters now is what you want.”

“I don’t even know anymore,” she said shakily. “I’ve been stuck doing the right thing for so long now that I’m not even sure I know what that is anymore.”

He was so close now. She could feel the heat of his nearness, and he touched her cheek with hesitant fingers.

“What do you want?” he asked as if it were the most important question in the world, and Marin felt herself fall.

“You,” she finally admitted, and the word caught on half a sob. “I just want you.”

“Whatever my Priestess wishes,” Daisuke breathed, and his lips brushed the corner of her mouth, igniting sparks. His hand trembled against her skin.

“Your hands are shaking,” she said softly, and he lifted the hand on her cheek to stare at it in dazed astonishment. Marin lifted onto her toes, reaching up to kiss him back. And as if she’d touched a match to dry wood, she felt him blaze with a sudden fire, taking her breath away as he deepened the kiss.

His hands move like flame over her. The silk robe slid off her shoulder and his mouth followed, drifting over her skin. He brushed his fingertips over the swell of her breast, and she jumped at the touch. He bent his head.

“ _Red berries grow in the southern land_ ,” Daisuke said softly, and his tongue flicked over her nipple. Marin sucked in a startled gasp.

“I…” she was trying to formulate words as his tongue drove her crazy. “I don’t think… I’ve ever heard Wang Wei interpreted like that.”

She could feel Daisuke’s mouth smile.

“Then you haven’t been reading it right,” he teased. His hand moved to curve around the richness of her breast. “ _Gather them ‘til full is your hand_ …”

He tugged at the sash of her robe, his fingers sliding under the silk as it fell open, and his hand rounded over her hip, easing her closer. Then the world tilted under her and she was falling, _falling_ , but Daisuke’s arms were there to catch her, bringing her down gently into the sheets.

Marin clutched at the bed underneath her as his hand drifted down, trailing sparks. He outlined the slope of her waist, drifting over the soft swell of her hip and down the length of her thigh, and distantly she heard herself gasp, arcing into him when he bit gently into the curve of her shoulder. His fingers teased between her legs, stroking into the wet heat there, and she fell open to him.

This time there was nothing in her head or heart but Daisuke and the feel of his hands on her body. And Marin gave herself up completely to him, his husky voice whispering poetry against her skin, dissolving all thought.

This time, when he moved deep inside her, there was nothing but Daisuke.

An eternity later, she found him propped on one elbow, looking down at her with something like awe in his hazel eyes. She reached up to touch the line of his jaw with gentle fingers.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You really love me.”

“I really do,” she told him, and he turned his head slightly to kiss her fingers, lifting a hand to press them against his mouth as he kissed them again.

“Then miracles truly are possible,” he whispered against her palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem in this chapter is Love Seeds by Wang Wei (699 – 759CE; Tang Dynasty). Daisuke has taken a few liberties with his interpretation of the poem.


	20. Revelations in the Light of Day

# Revelations in the Light of Day

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes

I never knew daylight could be so violent

A revelation in the light of day

You can’t choose what stays and what fades away

[No Light, No Light: Florence and the Machine]

They were both jolted out of sleep by the commotion in the corridor. Daisuke sat up abruptly, pulling Marin with him in a sleepy tangle of dark hair, as someone pounded on his doorframe. There was a confusion of voices, and Daisuke rolled out of the bed, reaching to pull on the loose pants lying in a heap on the floor. He paused long enough to grab his daggers from where he’d left them beside the bed, and shot a quick look at Marin. She drew in a deep breath, and nodded briefly.

Someone thumped on the door again, just as he pulled it open to stare into Xuelian’s worried face. The rest of the Seishi, and what seemed like half the palace, crowded in behind her.

“Have you seen Marin?” Xuelian demanded. “She’s missing from her room, and it looks like her bed wasn’t slept in…”

Her voice trailed off as Daisuke heard the soft hush of fabric behind him. Marin was just behind him, tucking her butterfly knife into her hastily tied sash, and there was silence. Then Xuelian staggered, shoved aside by Zifeng.

Zifeng stood there with a look of sick betrayal in his eyes, and Daisuke found he almost felt sorry for him, until he spoke.

Zifeng looked past him to Marin.

“Was it worth it?” His voice was flat. “Was he _good enough_ to make you forget all your promises to me? To us?”

Marin stayed motionless behind Daisuke.

“We can’t call Suzaku,” she said, but Daisuke could hear the thread of tension in her voice. “That’s what happened to the other priestesses. They called their gods, and something destroyed them, and then took them over. Genbu, Byakko, Seiryuu. They were all taken, and that’s why things have been going wrong. If I call Suzaku, that evil will have the last god and the whole world. This was the only way I could think of to make sure we couldn’t summon the god.”

In the rumble of voices, Daisuke heard Tai Yi Jun ask, “And how did you find out what happened to the other priestesses, hmm?” but Zifeng flung out a hand that cut everyone off.

“And I’m sure you tried so very hard to think of alternatives,” he said savagely. “Did you even think of bringing this information to us?”

He rounded on Daisuke. “And you. All along, this is what you’ve been scheming for, to seduce the Priestess. Was it just lust, or are you working for our enemy? Trying to ruin the Priestess so that we’d never be able to summon Suzaku. How did she learn that something else wants us to call the god? Was that you, deceiving her into your bed?”

Zifeng was breathing hard, his eyes glittering with something that looked a lot like hate as his attention slid back to Marin.

“Or was that what your wish was all along? To fuc-”

Daisuke’s daggers were at his throat before Zifeng had finished.

There was an ugly, metallic sound as Zifeng stepped back and swiftly drew his own sword, then before anyone could react Zifeng attacked, nearly impaling himself on Daisuke’s blades as he slammed into him with more fury than finesse. Daisuke caught himself as Marin staggered behind him, thrown off-balance, and he shoved Zifeng back, closing with him before Zifeng could get any closer to Marin again.

Daisuke ignored the shouts and noise of the crowd of Seishi, his focus on Zifeng. The swordsman was at a disadvantage in the narrow balcony, with no real room to use his sword, and Daisuke forced him back, a feral grin curling at the corners of his mouth as he sliced at Zifeng’s chest with a swift movement. Zifeng shifted backwards, his own eyes glittering with a savage fury.

Then Zifeng brought his sword up in a fast movement that Daisuke barely caught on the edge of his dagger, throwing it aside to gouge wood from the narrow wall frame. They had reached the staircase that led down into the courtyard.

“Stop it! Stop!” Marin shouted, and Daisuke froze, breathing hard. In that moment, Zifeng’s blade flicked across his face, and blood welled, beaded and trailed slowly down Daisuke’s cheek. He reached up to touch the cut with one fingertip.

The bright arc of Zifeng’s sword as it cut through the air, faster than thought. Daisuke heard Marin’s indrawn breath of horror. At the last moment, Daisuke swung aside.

Zifeng’s savage attention was focused on Daisuke, his face filled with an ugly hate. But Daisuke’s eyes were on Marin. He shifted away from the sharp circle of Zifeng’s blade effortlessly, and the attack was made a little clumsier, driven by a blinding fury, but Daisuke still didn’t counter. His attention shifted back to Marin, watching her for a sign.

As Zifeng gave an inarticulate cry of rage, Daisuke saw Marin’s mouth frame the words, “Do it.”

Her voice was too soft to be heard above the shouts and screams, but Daisuke’s fierce grin lit up like fireworks and he spun around to meet the attack with a savage delight that drove Zifeng back. Down the steps, Zifeng retreated to the level ground of the wide courtyard, and Daisuke leaped over the bannister to fall on him like lightning.

Zifeng barely countered as Daisuke slid in under the sweep of his sword, and Daisuke’s dagger flashed. Zifeng cried out and staggered, and blood dripped down his sword arm. And Daisuke dropped into a low spiral, sweeping Zifeng’s legs out from under him. Zifeng’s sword clattered to the stones, and Zifeng lay there, his breathing laboured with Daisuke’s knee on his chest, and Daisuke’s wickedly sharp dagger at his throat. The swordsman stared up at Daisuke with loathing, but Daisuke didn’t notice. He’d turned his head to where Marin was pelting down the staircase towards them.

Daisuke sighed, and shifted his knee, coming to his feet as she reached the edge of the courtyard.

“I could end this permanently,” he said conversationally to the man at his feet, “and maybe that would be the smartest thing to do, but we both know that Marin wouldn’t like that. Not really. Even if she is a bit pissed off with you right now.”

He was distracted by a distant bird shriek, and looked up as it was answered by another, and another, black specks coming closer fast, until the sky was full of raucous calls.

“Crows!” Zhu Yi shouted, backing away from the courtyard to the dubious cover under the balcony. Zifeng rolled to his feet, reaching for his sword while Daisuke’s attention was on the approaching birds.

“Get inside!” Daisuke snapped. He glanced across the open yard to where Marin was standing with Tai Yi Jun behind her.

“The tengu are coming. You must summon Suzaku, or we’ll all be destroyed,” Tai Yi Jun was saying, her voice oddly harsh and strained.

Marin turned to her in dismay. “I can’t. I’m not the Priestess anymore. I’m not pure.”

The old woman let out a hiss. “You’re lying. I can feel the connection to Suzaku there, stronger than ever.”

On the other side of the courtyard, Marin flashed a look at him, and Daisuke caught her look of bewilderment and a little fear.

“That’s not possible,” Marin insisted.

“You stupid girl.”

Daisuke forgot about the approaching tengu in shock as he watched Tai Yi Jun seize Marin’s arm and drag her towards the temple at the heart of the palace. Marin was struggling to break free, trying to prise the tight grip loose, but Tai Yi Jun had her in an iron hold. Daisuke could see Marin scrabbling at the stone balustrades and the statues on the way up the steep stairs, but even as she fought to get free of the impossibly strong force, Marin lost ground step by step until she was dragged from view.

The gates shook and thundered as a hail of birds slammed into the heavy wood and swept over the walls into the palace yard. With the noise of the crows growing deafening, Daisuke ran for the staircase. As he leaped up the first step to follow after Marin, he caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, and swung back sharply as Zifeng’s sword swept past his chest.

“Not now, you idiot!” he shouted, and turned his back on Zifeng to vault up the next few steps. He didn’t stop, even with the sound of Zifeng’s boot-steps hard on his heels, racing up the smooth, stone steps. He skidded under the red and gilt carved entrance to the temple just as Tai Yi Jun reached the shrine and the four banners painted with the gods, and flung Marin to the ground in front of them, her grip still hard on Marin’s wrist.

“Summon the god, if you want to live!” the old woman demanded. She shook Marin, and Daisuke could see the tears running down Marin’s cheeks now.

Daisuke broke into a run, blazing with fury.

“Call Suzaku,” Tai Yi Jun hissed.

Daisuke was halfway down the aisle of columns now, moving fast, and he saw the old woman blink. Like a crocodile’s nictitating membrane, film slid across her eyes and cleared, leaving Daisuke staring into a bottomless void. And then he was on her, his daggers drawn. Tai Yi Jun flicked one claw-like hand. Daisuke felt an invisible force bowl him over and slam him into a column. His daggers fell and skittered away from his hands, even as he rolled and came to a crouch.

Tai Yi Jun was watching him with that unblinking, cold, black gaze.

The fury blazed hotter in him, and it felt as though she was reading his anger with detached interest. One wrinkled hand flicked out at Daisuke and he slammed into air turned as sticky as tar. He struggled against the invisible restraints, but the thick air closed around him, drowning him.

“I can’t!” Marin insisted, her voice cracking in terror. Daisuke could see one hand scrabbling for the knife hidden in her sash, but Tai Yi Jun’s talons closed around her neck. A thin thread of scarlet crawled its way down Marin’s skin as they bit deep.

“Call anyway, dearie, or I will crush your throat.”

Tai Yi Jun shook her, lifting her until her feet barely scraped the floor, and Marin screamed.

“Suzaku!” she shrieked desperately. Daisuke fought harder, but the air held him fast.

“That’s right.” Tai Yi Jun’s mouth curled up in a horrible smile.

Marin’s hands were scrabbling at the claws around her throat.

“Suzaku! Help me!”

And Daisuke felt a fire bloom in his head.

His forehead ached with the burn of his anger, and he clutched at his neck as fiery pain erupted there. Heat swept through his foot and up to his knee, and his hand spasmed and closed on the stab of pain that ran from his palm to his wrist. As he forced his fingers to uncurl, he stared down at the red mark burned like a brand on his palm. His rage was fading into something more like fear, and the mark faded with it.

Tai Yi Jun was watching him. She said, in a tone that had changed from her warm, old voice to something dry and papery, “Well. That was unanticipated.”

Marin swore, and Daisuke’s head shot around to stare at her. She started laughing, a sound with a hysterical edge to it and Tai Yi Jun shook her by the neck until she stopped.

“How could we have missed it?” Marin gasped.

“Missed what?”

“I’ve already summoned the fucking god,” Marin said, her voice still skating on the edge of hysteria. She took a deep breath that caught and choked. Tai Yi Jun was still watching him, unmoving.

“What?”

“Before you came through the book, what happened?” Marin asked, a little more evenly in spite of the hand around her throat, and Daisuke frowned at her in confusion.

“I saw the book on my desk. And I heard you calling… me… for help.” His voice slowed and came to a stop as he finally understood what she was getting at.

“No.”

“It makes sense,” Marin said wearily.

“No.”

“I made the deepest wish of my heart.”

“I’m not a god.”

“And you came.”

“So you did,” Tai Yi Jun said drily. “After all that work to kill you off and keep you from interfering in my plans for the Priestess, I should have saved myself some time and effort and brought you straight here.”

She reached for him, and he stumbled backwards, going cold at the thought of that claw-like hand touching him.

Marin had used the distraction, and her knife was in her hand now. She struck, the blade sinking into Tai Yi Jun’s arm, catching in the white silk of the sleeve. The grip on her throat loosened briefly and Marin scrabbled backwards holding her knife, making it to the dubious cover of the shrine as a sudden boom rippled through the palace with the sound of shattering timber.

The bird shrieks and the shouts of the Seishi intruded on the temple, and Tai Yi Jun glanced back towards the growing noise of battle.

“The tengu always have a terrible sense of timing,” the old woman sighed. She reached for Daisuke again, and he felt something flash through him, white-hot and furious. Tai Yi Jun staggered backwards, clutching her hand.

The soft flesh on her face rippled disturbingly.

“But it makes no difference,” the ancient one said gently. “I will flay the flesh from your bones and devour you, as I did those other girls. As I did this old bag of bones.” Those endlessly black eyes turned to look at the withered hands she lifted, one still bearing the scorch marks. “At least it wouldn’t have hurt.”

Marin made a strangled noise of dissent.

“And you.” The gaze of the void turned to Zifeng, who had watched it all, frozen and horrified under the carved archway. “Completely useless. All you had to do was win the heart of the Priestess, and I would have had Suzaku by now.”

She reached again for Daisuke, but he was on his feet now, snatching up his daggers again.

Marin screamed, “Get us out of here! _Kai Jin!_ That’s my wish!”

And Suzaku’s fire leaped to obey, snatching them all up in a whirlwind of flame and sparks.

~~~~~

The sparks drifted like motes of dust in the air and vanished as they hit the cold stone of the temple floor.

The being who wore the Emperor of Heaven like an ill-fitting coat stared at the empty space where the bird god and His Priestess had been and allowed annoyance to flicker across the old woman’s face. The appropriated body shuddered.

This inconvenient skin… itched. It may have been immortal, and powerful, but it was still bounded by light and noise and time and sensation. It was deeply irritating to be confined to reaching through the eyes of others to see so far, and limited to travelling through space. Whose ridiculous idea was _time_ and _distance_ , anyway?

These maddening human insects buzzing and crawling, unleashed in the perfect silence of its domain by this pestilential Great Sage. It would be deeply satisfying to wipe reality clean of their infestation and return everything to the silent _nothing_ of Chaos that it should be. But all that was left to do was to claim the last god and the last cardinal quarter of material existence, and then it could all be erased.

There was a scratchy rustle at the entrance of the temple, and the figure of Tai Yi Jun turned to the human forms waiting there. They cringed, all spindly arms and legs and blood-soaked rags, as Tai Yi Jun narrowed her bottomless black eyes at them.

“Find them!” her voice cracked like a whip, and the tengu stumbled to obey. The sky bristled with black feathers and panicked crow calls, then the birds shrieked and peeled away in a dark flurry across the grey sky to seek out the Seishi and their god.


	21. Paper Trail

# Paper Trail

I gotta get out from under my bed

I can see again the lights in front of me

Hey, I’ve been waiting to get home a long time

[Lights of Home; U2]

Marin slammed into the ground, breathless and burning, as the storm of Suzaku’s fire swept away as fast as it had caught her up. For a long moment she lay still, her eyes closed. Every inch of her felt fevered and sore.

Her ears rang with a quiet that felt strange after the noise of the battle and the tengu, and she couldn’t hear any of the Seishi.

Slowly, it occurred to her that the quality of light on her closed eyelids was odd. It was too even and pale for sunlight. She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at a white plaster ceiling and the opaque bars of fluorescent lights. With agonising care, Marin levered herself upright, wincing in pain, and looked around at the familiar metal bookshelves of the National Library towering over her. There was carpet under her hands, and she focused on a familiar bag leaning against the chair legs beside her.

There was the pen she’d dropped when she’d opened the Book of Sky and Earth, and the pages of her homework scattered on the table above her.

Marin climbed ungracefully to her feet, and the rough silk of her robe tangled around her legs, erasing any last thoughts she’d had that she might have dreamed it all. There was also little doubt left that the Universe of the Four Gods could impact this world.

There was no sign of Daisuke when she pivoted to scan the desks and shelves around her. The library was silent except for the faint, distant creak of trolley wheels and the soft thud of books being returned to their shelves. The clock on the wall above her was telling her that it was nearly nine in the morning, and she took a few slow, deep breaths, trying to calm the too-rapid racing of her heart. Surely Daisuke had made it home, too. He had just been sent back to the place where he’d first opened the book, hadn’t he?

_Think, Marin._

The wish had worked. She’d been sent home, but she had no idea what had happened to Daisuke and the Seishi. She had to find out. She had to get back to them.

_Think._

She was surrounded by the resources of the National Library and internet access, and she had a little time before the library would open and people would start asking questions. She needed to get as much information as she could, get home and collect the resources she needed from her bedroom, and then find a way back into the Universe of the Four Gods.

Marin gathered her incongruous robes around her and slid into the desk chair, switching her laptop on. She ran through every search she could think of that might give her something useful.

She ran through a swift cross-check of all the details she’d gathered from the records in the Universe of the Four Gods. One by one, she ran searches on the the names of every priestess that she could recall, feeling sicker with every result that flashed up confirmation of what she already knew. Missing girls, girls who she knew would never make it back home again. She buried her face in her hands for a moment before returning to her laptop with renewed determination.

There was one more name that she needed. This one would hopefully lead her back to Daisuke, and maybe the Universe of the Four Gods. She had to work fast. She had to get back to Daisuke.

She scribbled down the details and shoved her laptop and her notes into her bag. Marin headed quickly for the restricted section and the Einosuke Okuda collection where she had found the Book of Sky and Earth.

The automatic light flickered on as she pushed the still unlocked door open. Marin quickly skimmed the shelves, but the only thing of interest seemed to be the space where the Book had been. There were collected folios of his journalistic pieces, and even a scrapbook of newspaper articles that had been written about him, and about the mysterious events around his death and that of his daughter. There was nothing that shed light on how he’d first heard about the Chinese works that he’d translated into the Book of Sky and Earth, or how he’d tracked it down.

But his work on Chinese mythology and translation was what had interested her in this collection in the first place, and there was a passage in one of his books that she wanted to look at again. Her fingertips brushed rapidly over Okuda’s published books on mythology until she got to the one she was looking for, and she pulled out the author’s copy of his collection of essays on Chinese origin myths. It had stuck in Marin’s mind because it had mentioned a Japanese location and story in the middle of all the Chinese myths, and her memory threw it up now because it sounded horribly close to what she’d just faced in the Universe of the Four Gods.

She flipped through the slim volume… _There it was_. Marin skimmed quickly down the page. She needed any clue she could get about what they were facing.

‘… _story of the Star God who refused to cede to the rule of Heaven and was subdued and imprisoned in the soul stone that can be found at Omika Shrine in Hitachi, Ibaraki Prefecture. What makes this story particularly interesting from the point of view of this study is the connection that has been made between this Star God and the primordial Chaos that existed before …’_

The inclusion of the Star God’s story in the middle of a study of Chinese origin stories was less of an intriguing academic puzzle now. The specificity of it, the concrete location here in this world, made it unsettlingly real.

_‘… Chinese mythology has another story in which Chaos emerges. Early stories tell of a mirror world that lived alongside the human world until the night when the mirror people attacked without warning. They were strong beyond reckoning, and Chaos itself. Only the Yellow Emperor had the strength to defeat the mirror people and drive them back into their mirrors, but even the Emperor’s spells are not strong enough to bind the mirror people for all eternity. One day, the spell will fail and Chaos will once again be unleashed into this world.’_

“It already has been,” Marin whispered to the book in her hands.

_‘All these disparate myths seem to have little in common, but look closer and we see certain parallels. These stories are many faces of the primordial Chaos that spawned the material world, and in these stories we can see hints of a darker interpretation than the benevolent or indifferent primordial beginning. Here we see a Chaos that resents and resists the order that was forced on it. We see Xingtian, eternally opposing Heaven._

_‘In the Chinese myth of the mirror world, and here in the Japanese tale of the Star God trapped in the soul stone, it goes further and we find the suggestion of Chaos waiting in growing malevolence to strike back at the order of Heaven and the material world.’_

In the margins in Okuda’s own hand was a scrawled note that cryptically said ‘ _It’s in the Book!’_ That hadn’t made any sense to Marin the first time she’d read it, and she’d passed over it without much thought, but now it took on an ominous significance. She kept going. She didn’t have much time before the library opened.

_‘… the common thread of suppression. With all the forces of Heaven and Earth mustered against these avatars of chaos and rebellion, it is made clear that Chaos has not been defeated for all time. Xingtian eternally opposes the Supreme Divinity and even decapitation is not enough to stop it. The Yellow Emperor himself was unable to do more than temporarily bind Chaos within the mirror; the myth makes it clear that the mirror world is merely biding its time to return. Amatsu-Mikaboshi, the Star God, was defeated but not destroyed, and remains imprisoned in stone._

_‘The hidden lesson here is that the primordial Chaos that gave birth to all things cannot be destroyed without unmaking the world, and that the all-consuming void waits to reclaim Heaven and Earth.’_

Marin swallowed hard, waiting for the sickening wave of dizziness to pass. This would have been fascinating if she didn’t still feel the bruises and bleeding marks that Chaos had left on her body.

Her options for dealing with that thing that had taken over Tai Yi Jun were narrowing with every line that she read of Okuda’s research. Even the Emperor of Heaven’s full power could only subdue it for a time, and Tai Yi Jun, the Emperor and Supreme Divinity herself, had fallen to it. Marin could wish it into submission, but it would still be there, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike back more savagely than ever. And she couldn’t wish it to destruction without destroying the Universe of the Four Gods with it.

She wished she had more time to cross-reference Okuda’s information, but the library would be opening soon, and even without his connection to the Book of Sky and Earth, Okuda was still the best authority she knew on the subject. It was why she’d been in his collection in the first place, and it was unlikely that she would find anything else of more use even if she had the time to dig deeper.

Marin froze with the book in her hands at the squeak of trolley wheels approaching the restricted room and prayed that no one would notice the light under the door. The squeaking drew closer, and Marin didn’t dare to breathe again until the trolley and the sound of footsteps on the carpeted floor had passed.

She waited long enough for the deep silence to settle outside the door, then she stuffed the book back into its place and slid out of the restricted room. She bundled up her bag and hurried down to the library entrance. She was going to stand out like someone escaped from a Chinese fantasy drama, and she’d have to time it so that hopefully none of the librarians who knew her saw her leave, but there was no help for it. Drawing a deep breath, Marin kept going, pausing out of sight of the main entrance desk until she felt that their heads were turned away, then she snatched her shoes from the locker and hurried as fast as she dared through the security gates and out the doors, expecting a shout at any moment, expecting someone to stop her.

She kept her eyes down as she reached the street. She just had to get home, get some less conspicuous clothes, and pray that her mother wasn’t home.

“Hey, pretty lady! Nice costume!” someone shouted, and she made the mistake of glancing back at the four guys lounging on the library steps. One of them straightened, leering at her.

“Come and hang out with us,” he called out. “I’ll play any role you want!”

She kilted up the brocade skirts and broke into a run.

When a hand shot out of the alley and grabbed her arm, jerking her around, she thought for a moment that he’d caught up with her. Marin let out an involuntary shriek and passers-by turned at the sound. She found herself staring into the glittering black eyes of a tengu warrior.

“Found you, little Priestess.” The tengu’s beaky mouth stretched in a nasty grin, heedless of the attention they were drawing. “My master wants you.”

The creature wasn’t expecting the sudden blade that Marin snatched out of her sash and drove into its arm, and it gave a raucous shriek of pain. If her reaction hadn’t been so unexpected, maybe the tengu might have thought through its next move, but it flew at her and inadvertently drove itself onto the wild, defensive thrust of her knife, scrabbling savagely at her arms and chest with spindly fingers that turned into bird claws that fell away. The crow landed dead at her feet with a soft _whump_ of scattered feathers.

Hidden in her sleeve, Marin could feel warm blood dripping down into her palm, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the stinging gouges the tengu had left in her arm or the tengu’s blood on her knife. She was breathing in swift, panicked gasps, adrenaline spiking her veins.

A faint click snapped her head around to stare into the lens of a phone camera and wide-eyed, gaping onlookers.

“How did you _do_ that?!” someone was asking, staring at the dead crow, but Marin took off running, gathering her gown up with one hand. Her book bag and laptop smacked painfully into her hip with every step and the bleeding claw marks were soaking the torn edges of her sleeves as she kept running. Finally her building complex loomed ahead, and Marin raced past the doorman, ignoring his startled yelp as she slammed into the waiting lift and the gilt doors closed behind her.

The empty silence of her apartment was both a relief, because it meant that she wouldn’t have to come up with explanations, and unnervingly strange. Marin felt as though she was moving through a bubble of unreality as she pushed open the door of her bedroom and dropped her bag beside her bed.

She glanced down at the knife still open in her hand. _A weapon that no one’s expecting._ The crow’s blood was drying on the blade, and Marin wiped it on her gown, leaving another rust-red streak on the ruined silk. She dropped the knife and the gown both on the floor of her bedroom and snatched up a random handful of clean clothes, retreating to her bathroom. _Daisuke wasn’t wrong._

Marin stepped into the shower and gave in to the temporary bliss of shampoo and soap as the grit of the Universe of the Four Gods swirled away down the drain. The very ordinariness of the steam, the smell of soap, and the feel of the smooth tiles almost convinced her for a moment that everything had been a dream. She had not just spent months in another world, fighting demons and monsters, falling in love with a god.

The crow scratches stung and bled as the hot water hit them, reminding her of just how real it all was. Her hand paused against her throat, feeling the bruises there. It had been only hours since Tai Yi Jun had gripped her hard enough to choke, and she swallowed. A tear rolled silently down her cheek, followed by another, until she leaned her forehead against the glass of the shower screen and shook with great, heaving sobs that caught in her chest and scraped her bruised throat.

But time was short. Every second she wasted here was weeks or months or years that Daisuke was stuck in the Universe of the Four Gods. And every second ran the risk that her parents would come home and try to stop her from going back.

Marin turned her face to the shower spray to wash away the traces of tears. She pushed her palms against her stinging eyes until she saw starbursts. Reluctantly, she reached out and turned off the water. It wasn’t until she was pulling her blouse on that she felt the faint burn of another injury that she hadn’t noticed until now. The soft cotton rasped against her skin and Marin winced at the contact. She twisted awkwardly to look at the smooth red marks left by her first wish that swept across her shoulders and down her back.

In the mirror, she could see more of the burn marks under her skin and she prodded them gently, leaving white patches that slowly dissolved in the middle of the fading red. The sensation felt more like a memory of pain, a sunburn almost forgotten, and she pinched at the skin wondering why it didn’t hurt more.

She slid her blouse over the red marks and frowned at her reflection in the mirror. It felt strange to be wearing her normal clothes again. The sleeves felt too short, and there was no swirl of fabric around her legs as she moved. She pulled her still-damp hair back and tried to smooth down the wisps of dark hair that insisted on escaping.

Marin drew a deep breath. It would have to do.

The front door slammed shut, and footsteps strode angrily down the hall. Marin took the address she’d scribbled down out of her bag, and she scooped up the butterfly knife from the robes on her floor. Her train pass was in her school uniform pocket somewhere in the Universe of the Four Gods. She snatched up a handful of coins from her dresser for the train and reached for the door handle just as her mother wrenched it open.

There was a frozen moment when they stared at each other.

“So you finally decided to come home,” her mother said coldly. “I’ve just had a call from the Academy to inform me that my daughter didn’t turn up to school this morning, and I had to leave in the middle of a crucial meeting to deal with this, after you kept us up all night worrying.”

Although that worry obviously hadn’t kept her mother from her usual routine, until the school had interrupted her. Marin swallowed the rebellious words that rose like bile in her throat, and dropped her gaze.

“I hope you have an adequate excuse.”

Her mother came into the room, sweeping the space with that assessing look that catalogued every misaligned book and misplaced pen and tallied it along with all of Marin’s other flaws for future dissection. Her eyes fell on the crumpled mess of damask robe smeared with blood and feathers on the floor, and her lips thinned.

“What sort of trouble are you in now?” she asked with icy precision.

Marin stung with the unfairness of it. When had she _ever_ put a foot out of line?

“Why are you so sure I’m in trouble?”

Her mother gestured sharply at the blood, the feathers, and the torn and filthy silk as if it spoke for itself. Marin was acutely aware that there wasn’t a word of concern about where the blood had come from, or if she had been hurt.

“I had to hear all about _this_ from the doorman downstairs. It will be all over the building by now, and then what will everyone think? Your sister may behave like a delinquent, but I expected better from you.”

“I _wish_ I was more like Kimiko!” Marin cried.

“Defying your parents and shaming your family?”

“Having the courage to actually live my life and make my own mistakes,” Marin retorted, and her mother’s eyes narrowed furiously at the unaccustomed back talk.

“No daughter of mine is going to throw away her life running around with Heaven only knows what kind of riffraff, wasting everything we’ve worked so hard to give you. I’ve put up with Kimiko’s defiance, and you wasting your talents on frivolous studies,” her mother’s tone was scathing, “but there are going to be changes around here.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that I might not want to spend my life building a political empire like you and father did?” Marin asked, and her mother frowned.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said flatly. “You don’t know what you really want. One day, you’ll realise that all those ridiculous poems and stories you waste your time with have no real world applications, and you’ll be grateful I made you take your head out of the clouds.”

Marin felt her nails cut into her palms. She had always hated the way that Kimiko defied their mother openly, flouting the rules and turning the apartment into a seething mass of arguments and shouting and slammed doors, while Marin tried to block it out and focus on her schoolwork. But what had being the perfect daughter ever achieved for Marin?

“I have to go,” she said, her voice shaking with tension and certainty, and she reached for the door. She was brought up short as her mother’s manicured hand closed over her wrist.

“You’re not going anywhere, young lady. You will stay in here and focus on your studies until I decide that I can trust you out of my sight,” her mother snapped, but Marin broke the hold with a sharp turn of her wrist that Daisuke had taught her. She stepped out of reach and kept going, pausing only long enough to slip her shoes on at the front door.

“I can’t stay,” she said, one hand on the doorknob. ”Ground me when I get back, but I have to go now.”

It was considerably easier to defy her mother and walk out the door knowing that that there was a good chance she wouldn’t be coming back to face the music. Knowing that the alternative was leaving Daisuke to face his fate alone in the world of the book made it easier still.

“Marin!” The door closed on her mother’s fury. By the time Marin reached the station, she was running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was kind of research-heavy, and I went down the rabbit-hole. I don’t know if anyone’s interested, but Amatsu-Mikaboshi in particular was fascinating and frustrating to chase down, and the Marvel character muddied the waters a lot.  
> Amatsu-Mikaboshi is referenced in the Nihon Shoki (the second oldest book of classical Japanese history, written around 720CE), and is also given the name Ameno-Kagaseo, or Kagaseo, in some sources. There’s a fair bit of debate over Amatsu-Mikaboshi's name; I’ve gone with the most commonly accepted translation of Dread Star of Heaven. Omika Shrine in Hitachi, Ibaraki claims the legend of Amatsu-Mikaboshi, and there’s a stone there which is supposed to contain the spirit of the star god. The history of the shrine gives a little more detail on the story. There were other scattered references that I came across, some of which I was unable to confirm with my limited resources, but the common thread seems to be that Amatsu-Mikaboshi was a star deity from before the order of the gods, and that he would not submit to Japan’s gods, so he was defeated and imprisoned. Resistance and rebellion is the theme of Amatsu-Mikaboshi, and I’ve used that to link him in this story to other myths of chaos, resistance and rebellion.  
> Shan Hai Jing (Classic of Mountain and Sea) was a source for some of the Chinese stories, such as Xingtian and Hundun, and my main reference for the mirror world myth was Turbulent Mirror: an Illustrated Guide to Chaos Theory and the Science of Wholeness by John P. Briggs and F. David Peat.  
> If I’ve massively misinterpreted anything, I apologise.


	22. Tea, Cake and Priestesses

# Tea, Cake and Priestesses

I am fire

I am water

I am Empress

I am thunder

I am flower

I am wonder

I’m the object of your desire

I am beauty, I am grace

I am faith

[Song of Women: The Hu (feat. Lzzy Hale)]

Marin barely noticed the train journey, dimly registering the announcement for her stop. She kept looking at the address on the paper in her hand as she walked. Where she was going wasn’t really that far, but it felt like she’d been walking forever, and by the time she found the house she’d been looking for she was feeling hot and tired, and more than a little sick with apprehension.

Twice she raised her hand to press the buzzer beside the door, and twice her hand dropped. Finally, she pushed it swiftly before she could think better of it. As the echoes of the buzzing faded away inside the house, she heard footsteps.

The woman who opened the door was disconcertingly familiar. Her toffee-brown hair was caught back in a careless bun, and the deep shadows under her eyes made her look older, but Marin still recognised her from the paintings in Suzaku’s temple and Daisuke’s sketch. More than that, she could see the resemblance to Daisuke in the woman’s hazel eyes.

The words Marin had been practising on the way there disappeared, and they stared at each other on the doorstep.

Marin blurted, “I know your son.”

And the woman let out a breath that was half laugh and half pain.

“Suzaku’s Priestess,” she said. “You’d better come in, dear. I’m Miaka.”

“Is Daisuke here?” Marin asked urgently, and Daisuke’s mother was silent for too long.

“Come in, dear,” she said again, and stepped back. “We can’t have this conversation on the doorstep.”

Marin followed her into the house, trying to not be too obvious about the fact that she was staring at everything. This was where Daisuke had grown up, and it felt so weird to be there without him.

Daisuke’s mother led her into a bright little sitting room, and looked around vaguely as if she’d forgotten what she was doing. Miaka swept a pile of magazines off the couch and dumped them on the floor.

“So you know who I am,” Marin said, and Miaka gave her a tired smile.

“I know what it means when the book of the Four Gods Sky and Earth turns up,” she pointed out, “and I found the book in Daisuke’s room, along with a distinct absence of my son. I’ve been following your adventures, and I feel as though I know you quite well by now, Marin. Although not as well as my son knows you,” she added with a quick lift of her eyebrow. Marin felt her face burn with a sudden blush.

“Make yourself at home, dear. I’ll go make us some tea.” And Miaka flitted out of the room before Marin could say anything.

Oh, gods, what exactly had Miaka read? Had the book covered absolutely everything that had happened?

Miaka came back in, a tray in her hands with a teapot and cups, and a small plate of cake.

“I thought we could use a sugar hit,” she said, and her tired face lightened in a sudden smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “And don’t worry, I skipped over that part of the book once I realised what was going on. Some things a mother doesn’t need to know about.”

“So he’s still in the book?” Marin asked, and Miaka dipped her head in confirmation. “Is he alright?”

“He’s alive. And he’s missing you,” Miaka told her.

Marin let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, and reached for the tea cup Miaka had put in front of her.

“I should thank you, too, for keeping Daisuke from doing anything too fatally stupid,” Miaka added. “I love my boy dearly, but he does have a habit of throwing himself into things.”

“So you know what happened before I came back,” Marin said, and Miaka’s smile faded a little. “You know about Daisuke?”

“I know. My son is Suzaku. Which does explain a few things.”

Miaka blew gently on her tea.

“I had a hard time when he was born. Right about the time Taka and I were trying to have another child, I was having dreams that were so clear they were almost visions. And the clearest ones were of Suzaku. He was fighting something, and being driven into retreat, and in the dreams I knew something terrible was happening in the Universe of the Four Gods, but I just put it down to worrying because I wasn’t falling pregnant. One night I dreamed that Suzaku came to me and begged me to hide Him.” Miaka’s tired smile grew a little brighter. “Not long after that, I found out that I was expecting Daisuke, and I didn’t have any more dreams. Which makes sense now.”

Miaka shifted slightly on the couch, reaching absently for a piece of cake.

“Daisuke was always reckless, even as a baby. He learned to walk much earlier than Hikari ever did, and he would climb anything, do anything, just to keep moving. He was the one who would be at the top of the playground, and he’d just fling himself into the air like he was trying to fly.” Miaka bit into the cake. “All the other parents would panic, but I gave up trying to stop him.”

“Nothing has changed then,” Marin said drily. “The number of times I wanted to smack him for doing something rash -” she broke off as she remembered who she was talking to, but Miaka gave her a sympathetic grin that reminded her of Daisuke.

“So you get it. But the other side is that all that fire burns brightly in all the best ways too. Hikari is the steady one, he shines like a star. But when Daisuke figures out what he wants to do with all that creativity and energy that makes him so restless, he’s going to do amazing things.”

Miaka’s hazel eyes, so much like Daisuke’s, regarded her steadily, and Marin’s own eyes dropped.“And really, that’s what seems to happen, doesn’t it? We get pulled into the Universe to bring balance, and Suzaku is all about love and passion. I know He helped me find what I love, and showed me what I was prepared to do to hold onto it. What are you passionate about?” Miaka asked a little mischievously.

The easy answer would have been _Daisuke_ , but as Marin stared down at the tea cup in front of her she realised that it wasn’t quite that simple. The truth was, she’d been feeling passionate about a lot more things since Daisuke dropped into her life and set it on fire, and she was grateful to him for that even while he drove her crazy.

“Seiryuu is the god of war,” Miaka was saying, “and His priestess, Yui, was always the one to stand her ground and fight for what she thought was right. I wish Yui was here. You’d like her.”

“Natsumi was like that too,” Marin said with a quick catch of sudden grief in her voice. “I didn’t know her all that well, but she always seemed like someone who was looking for a cause to devote herself to. A fighting spirit.”

“I still can’t believe that Tai Yi Jun has turned evil. I didn’t think that was possible. She was a weird one, and put me through a few nasty moments, but she always seemed to be on our side, and gave us all some pretty powerful gifts.” Miaka was frowning, as if she was trying to remember something. “And when Suzaku sent Taka and me home, there was… I think I saw…” she shook her head sharply. “I have a suspicion that we saw her real form. I wish I could remember clearly.”

“It’s not Tai Yi Jun. It would almost be better if it was, because it means we’re dealing with a being powerful enough to defeat the Emperor of Heaven and take her place, and it’s already taken over three of the four gods too. It’s been trying to influence the Seishi and use me to get to Daisuke… Suzaku,” Marin came to a halt over the names, and Miaka gave her a small smile.

“I know. It’s confusing. It took me ages to work out what I was supposed to call Taka.”

Marin took a breath. “In one of his books, Einosuke Okuda describes different versions of a malevolent being. And all those stories sound terrifyingly like what I saw in Tai Yi Jun’s palace. Okuda called it the primordial Chaos.”

“How on earth are you supposed to defeat _that?_ ”

“I don’t _know_. In Okuda’s research, the Emperor of Heaven, whatever name he went by, was the only one who could put it down for a while, but we don’t have Tai Yi Jun anymore and we’re down to one god and two wishes.”

The former priestess didn’t mention her son, but Marin could see her hand shake a little as she put her cake down.

“I used to think that this was the real world and the Universe of the Four Gods was some kind of made up fantasy. I think it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Miaka said unevenly, and Marin nodded.

“I’m coming to the conclusion that the link between the worlds is more vital than we know. I just wish I had Okuda’s research on the Book of Sky and Earth. I feel like I’m flying blind here, trying to find a solution without enough information, and that was always the bridge between this world and that one.”

“Now, there I can help you,” Miaka said, and stood.

She pulled a slim, university-bound volume from one of the shelves beside her, and handed it to Marin. When Marin opened it randomly, she could see yellowed pages crowded with old, handwritten notes, and the occasional annotation. She flipped to the title page and almost choked on a gasp.

“This is Einosuke Okuda’s personal journal on the Four Gods Sky and Earth,” she breathed. She turned another page gingerly. “I thought all of his notes about it were destroyed after his death. How on earth did you get hold of this?”

“I didn’t. My brother stole it,” Miaka said with that grin and the wicked twinkle in her eyes that was disconcertingly like her youngest son’s. “The Book of Sky and Earth has a mind of its own, and it’s indestructible. My brother persuaded the National Library to lock up the Okuda collection to keep it safe, but we’ve seen how well that worked out, and Keisuke felt that leaving the research notes there with it probably wasn’t a good idea.”

Marin looked up from the volume in her hands. “Wait, you couldn’t destroy the Book?”

“I know more than a few people have tried to destroy it. Einosuke Okuda’s assistant tried to burn it in an industrial furnace, and it didn’t leave a mark on it according to Suzuno.”

“You talked to Suzuno Osugi?”

“My brother did, not long before she passed away. Her father was Okuda’s assistant, and he was worried Suzuno would find it and become a sacrifice to the beast god. Which was a fair concern, as it turned out. But he tried several times and several ways to destroy the book and nothing worked.”

“And I would have to assume that other attempts have been made,” Marin said, keeping her voice controlled. “It’s claimed more than a few lives over the years.”

“Yui and I made it back, and so did the priestess of Byakko,” Miaka pointed out.

“But Takiko Okuda didn’t. And there were priestesses before that, when the book was still in China. The cycle seems to repeat every few hundred years or so. It’s a little hard to measure. Most of the priestesses, I couldn’t find out what happened to them in this world, but the accounts of Suzaku’s priestesses in the Rongyao Palace library, and the Records of the Four Kingdoms on Mt Daichi went into a fair bit of detail about what happened to them in the Universe of the Four Gods.”

Miaka made a rueful face. “You’re a lot more studious than I ever was. I never even knew there was a library in the Palace. I was too busy looking for the kitchens.”

“The records all talk a lot about consuming the sacrifices. I’d always just thought that that was poetic embellishment until I made the first wish, but it’s not, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Miaka said.

“What I felt in the mirror of the girls from this cycle was worse than that.”

“It was worse,” Miaka said bleakly, and Marin remembered that she had read what Marin had experienced. “It didn’t feel like that when Suzaku began to take me over.”

There was a moment’s silence between them.

“What was it like?” Marin asked eventually, almost fearfully, and her hand went unconsciously to the deep tissue burns on her shoulder. She looked up to find Miaka watching her with sympathy in her hazel eyes.

“You’ve made the first wish, so you’ve felt it a little. But I’m not going to lie – it gets worse. And it leaves its mark on you.” Miaka pushed up one sleeve, and Marin could see white scars under the skin, coiling around Miaka’s arm like the ghosts of flames and feathers. “Yui still has the scales. But the hardest part is that the power of the beast god is very seductive, even while it’s destroying you. You want to give in to it. Yui fought like the devil to come back, and I had the thought of Taka to help bring me home.”

Her gaze shifted, turning inwards. “I think that’s part of what the quest is all about, making the priestess’ will stronger and giving her a reason to come back. And sometimes it’s not enough.”

Marin made the connection, and felt her face turn pale. “What if I have no reason to resist Suzaku? What if He’s what I want?”

“I don’t know,” Miaka said, her face tight with distress. “Oh, my dear, I don’t know. This isn’t like when I went into the Universe.”

“This isn’t like any of the priestess cycles that I’ve researched.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Marin said slowly. “But I really hope there are answers in here.” She hugged the Einosuke Okuda notes closer. “I don’t want to be the sacrificial victim here, and I’m going to do everything I can to come back home, but if it comes down to it I want to make sure that what I do counts for something.”

Miaka’s eyes were full of tears. “Now I know how Keisuke felt all those years ago, watching everything that was happening in the book and not able to do a damn thing.”

She looked up, and Marin caught the conflicted anguish fleetingly before Miaka shuttered it behind a neutral expression that looked odd on her normally animated face.

“You don’t have to go back in,” Miaka said carefully. “You don’t have to risk yourself like this.”

“I have to get Daisuke back.”

And Miaka’s hazel eyes closed as she made a soft sound that might have been relief, or guilt. Or grief.

Marin could feel something beginning to choke her, and she stood abruptly, the research notes still in her hands.

“I think I need to go into the book now, before I completely lose my nerve. And the longer I leave it, the more chance there is that Daisuke’s going to get himself into trouble,” Marin added with an attempt at light heartedness that she could tell wasn’t fooling Miaka.

Their eyes met, and then the older woman reached out to gather her into a tight embrace. Marin clung to her in a way she never had with her own mother, and as Miaka’s warmth and love enveloped her and gave her strength Marin thought she understood why Suzaku had been drawn to this woman.

“We priestesses have to stick together,” Miaka whispered, and Marin drew a shaky breath before she stepped back.

She followed Miaka up the stairs, feeling odder with each step that brought her closer to Daisuke and the Universe of the Four Gods, and further away from her normal life. She couldn’t have said with any certainty whether she felt more anticipation or anxiety as she stepped through the doorway into Daisuke’s room, and she looked around with a peculiar sense of dislocation.

His rumpled bed, with a sketchbook half-hidden under the messy quilt, looked oddly out of place, and she could read traces of his personality that she’d seen in a very different context. Miaka saw her looking at the collection of lighters and matchboxes on a shelf beside his bed, and gave her a wry smile.

“He’s always had a bit of a thing for fire. It made for some very nervous times when he was growing up. It makes a lot more sense now, though.”

And there on the desk was the book Marin had last seen in the National Library, open and expectant. Marin took a half-step towards it.

“Marin.”

She turned back to face the older woman, and Miaka reached out to cup a trembling hand against her cheek.

“Look after my boy,” Miaka said softly. Marin nodded briefly and turned back to the desk and the book waiting on it. Before she could lose her courage, Marin turned the page, and willed herself into the Universe of the Four Gods again.


	23. Battle Plans

# Battle Plans

Am I brave enough?

Am I strong enough?

To follow the desire

That burns from within

To push away my fear

To stand where I'm afraid

I am through with this

[I Am the Fire: Halestorm]

Marin fell through the flaming red sky to the earth. She landed at the feet of Suzaku’s glittering golden statue in the Temple of the Firebird in Rongyao, clutching Okuda’s notebook.

There was a strange sense of dislocation as she looked up into Suzaku’s ruby eyes and the unchanging high arc of the painted ceiling above, as if the months since the failed ceremony and the tengu attack on the Temple hadn’t happened. As she stepped out of the dissolving red sparks on unsteady feet, though, she became more aware of what had changed since the last time she’d been in the vaulted temple chamber.

The bronze brazier was still burning in the middle of the central dais, but it was surrounded by haphazard piles of bedding and she could tell which one was Daisuke’s by the open book that she recognised as one of the Temple histories. The artwork that filled every spare scrap in the margins was unmistakeably his, and she was caught between admiring the drawings and wincing at the defaced book. There was a pot full of something on the floor next to the brazier that had clearly been hastily dumped there and abandoned. The austere magnificence of the Temple was looking oddly lived in.

At first she thought the echoing _boom_ was an aftereffect of the transition between the worlds, but then it came again and she heard muffled shouts and the dim ring of metal weapons. She turned to the sound.

“Open the doors and release the princess into our custody!” someone bellowed outside. The doors of the temple shuddered under another onslaught. “Surrender now, and no one gets hurt!”

“Yeah, I don’t think so!”

Marin felt a fizz of connection run through her at Daisuke’s derisive voice. She found him, bright as a flame even in the dim light of the temple. His back was braced against the doors, and he had his attention on the altar that Tian Zhen and Zhu Yi seemed to be hauling towards the doors. A sacred tablet tumbled to the ground and shattered as they shoved the altar.

“Leave it!” Daisuke commanded. “It’s not sacrilegious if the god himself doesn’t give a fuck!”

The doors thundered and bowed again.

Jing Yun was leaning hard on the draw bar, putting his weight into it. Meixing stood back, one hand raised and glowing, and the other balancing her sword. Marin could see the faint skate of uneven light on the blade’s edge that hinted that the princess’ hands weren’t as steady as they seemed. Beyond her, Xuelian stood stiff and unmoving with the pale red glow of power outlining her hands, and Marin found herself oddly startled to find Zifeng there with the rest of the Seishi even after everything that had happened at Mt Daichi.

The young lord watched the doors with the impassive attention of a white jade statue.

“What’s going on?” she asked, and it felt as though the universe stuttered. Her Seishi swivelled to stare at her, forgetting the shuddering doors behind them. And Daisuke…

Her name was an exhalation, a prayer, then he was running, sweeping her up in a desperate embrace. For one long moment there was no one else in the world except the two of them.

Another _boom_ thundered through the temple, and everyone jerked back. In the moment’s confusion, the temple doors shuddered and smashed open as soldiers poured through the splintered gap. The Seishi pulled back into a tight circle around her, and she could feel Daisuke pressed up against her, his muscles taut as he sized up the soldiers closing in around them.

“What on earth is going on?” Marin repeated in a murmur, and Daisuke flicked her a quick glance and a faint smile.

“The emperor blames us.”

“For what?” Marin couldn’t help exclaiming, and Daisuke shrugged.

“For everything. We’re holding his daughter hostage. We brought the demons here. It’s all our fault that the city is in ruins. The Priestess is missing under mysterious circumstances. Take your pick.” Then his unusually sombre expression cracked into a familiar, troublemaking grin. “Well, not the Priestess now, obviously, but everything else.”

There was the ringing thud of armoured men coming to attention, and Marin had another shock as the Marquis Zhao, Zifeng’s father, strode through the broken doors towards them. _What the hell had been happening while she was gone?_

“Arrest them,” Master Zhao said coldly. His eyes swept dismissively over his son. “All of them. And return the princess to the palace.”

Even in the dim light of the temple, Marin could see Meixing’s face drain of colour. The princess gripped her sword tighter, and Marin was startled to realise that the low, rumbling snarl she could hear was coming from Tian Zhen. Marin edged past Daisuke’s arm and stepped forward. The marquis’ frigid gaze fell on her.

“I see the Priestess finally deigns to come out of hiding. The emperor will decide what to do with you, along with your miscreant band of treasonous rebels.”

“Have a care, your eminence,” Marin said, and the honorific was laced with contempt. “I have two more wishes, and Suzaku at my command.” She ignored Daisuke’s soft snort of laughter.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Master Zhao sneered.

“Believe me, I would burn this world to the ground if you push me too far.”

~~~~~

Zifeng saw Daisuke’s hands move to the daggers at his side. Smoke rose in a wisp from his fingers, but before he could burst into flames, Zifeng had his sword out of its scabbard, carving a line of red light through the air and halting a hair’s width from his father’s bared neck. The marquis didn’t even flinch. The look he turned on his son was pure disgust.

“What are you doing, you stupid boy?” his father snarled, and Zifeng forced himself to not take that automatic step backwards.

“I’m doing what you raised me to do,” he said bitterly. He could feel Xuelian come to stand behind him, a warm, familiar bulwark against the cold wash of his father’s palpable rage. “Protect the Priestess at all costs.”

He refused to let his sword tremble in his hand, and it was only when he knew that Marin was safely out of reach and behind the wall of protection of Daisuke and the Seishi that he lowered his sword. But he didn’t sheath it. It stayed, balanced and dancing with red flame, in his hand.

“The stupid bitch will destroy us all!” the marquis nearly screamed, and Zifeng almost recoiled at the unprecedented vulgarity. His father’s face was distorted with more emotion than Zifeng had ever seen in him, and Zifeng allowed a small smile to break through.

“Perhaps that would be no bad thing,” he said calmly, but his sword stayed in his hand as he joined the Seishi with Xuelian close behind him.

~~~~~

“Kill the false priestess!” the Marquis Zhao commanded, his voice rising. As the halberds swung towards Marin, Daisuke felt himself ignite. A wall of flame slammed through him with the heat of his reaction, and fire crackled over his fingertips and ran down the blades of his daggers.

Over the noise of the flames he could hear the clatter of weapons dropping and the cries of men falling to their knees as he stalked towards them.

“Stand your ground!” the marquis shouted. As Daisuke’s eyes met his through the shield of fire between them, Daisuke saw a very human rage blaze in the man’s eyes. Then Daisuke saw the Marquis Zhao blink, and for a split second a void opened up in the man’s eyes before it was gone.

It was enough to douse a measure of the heat running through his veins, and Daisuke yanked the fire back under his skin. The few soldiers who hadn’t fled or grovelled in the street had their attention riveted on Daisuke, and never saw Xuelian until her soft touch dropped them where they stood.

The hand that connected, scarlet with power, with the marquis’ cheek as he turned was considerably less gentle. Daisuke saw Master Zhao’s eyes go wide in an almost comical disbelief, and then he heard Zifeng’s faint inhalation as his father crumpled to the ground in an undignified heap. Xuelian stood over him, flexing her hand and swaying slightly.

“That felt good,” she said, and there was an edge of vindictiveness under her measured calm. Zifeng lifted his eyes to stare at her as if he’d never seen her before, his face frozen in shock and respect.

“I think we need to move,” Daisuke said carefully. “Before anyone else comes looking for us.” He shot a look around the temple.

“Get what you need quickly. Time to go,” he commanded.

The Seishi scattered to gather up their bedding and packs with experienced efficiency, and when Daisuke reached for his own blankets Marin bent and snatched up the book sitting on top of them before it could hit the ground. He couldn’t help watching her instead of focusing on the task at hand, his eyes on her face as she turned the pages of the book.

He stuffed his blankets haphazardly into his pack, and broke the silence. “It was a long month, and I was short on paper. Are you going to kill me for ruining the book?” he half-joked.

“Not when you’ve done something this beautiful with it,” she said, her attention still on his artwork. Over her shoulder he could see that she had got to the part where he’d drawn the battle with Genbu. “You drew our whole journey? This is stunning, Daisuke.”

“It’s just scribble.”

“It’s more than that,” she insisted, and he shrugged disparagingly.

“Hikari wasn’t wrong. It’ll never be a stable career,” he said. Marin looked up from the book at that, and her eyebrows rose.

“ ‘Stable’?” she asked incredulously. “Is that really what you want? And have you _ever_ in your entire life done anything that your brother said you should do?”

Daisuke stared at her, at a loss for words. When she put it like that …

“Daisuke?” Jing Yun’s voice jolted him out of his trance. “We’re all ready to go.”

They were barely two streets from the temple when they heard the scuffle and startled squawk of recognition, abruptly cut off.

Three tengu fell as they leaped, halfway between human and crow, with Zhu Yi’s arrows blooming from their throats. A fourth crow fled shrieking into the sky. Zhu Yi’s bow tracked it, but it was out of reach, and he eased the draw on the bowstring, his face grim.

“We have to move,” Daisuke ruled. He flashed a quick look at Jing Yun and Zifeng. “You know the city best. Are we better off going for speed in the open, or stealth?”

Jing Yun was frowning up at the sky.

“Speed,” he decided, and Zifeng gave a reluctant nod of agreement. “Any protection from the tengu that we had behind the Temple’s wards is gone now. We’ve been seen, so Tai Yi Jun knows we’re here anyway, and if we move fast we might make it out of the city before she gets here from wherever that tengu was heading.”

There was little to stop them as the group wove through the streets. Anyone still in the city was in hiding and disinclined to interfere with a group of armed and purposeful warriors glowing with power, however ragged they were. The wreckage of carts and corpses and destroyed market stalls lay everywhere, and several times they had to pick their way carefully over the rubble that blocked their path.

The few tengu they found were dispatched swiftly before they could take to the air, and there had been no sign of any other forces within the city. They found out why as they skidded into the wide road that led out of the city, and the gatehouse loomed over them in massive stone.

In the shadow of the gatehouse, the attention of the guarding soldiers were fixed on the gates. Those few who spared attention for the street behind them grew wide-eyed as they caught sight of the Seishi approaching with glowing red drawn weapons. Some fell in obeisance, and Marin leaned towards Daisuke.

“You’re on fire again,” she whispered to him, and Daisuke glanced down at his hands. Flames flickered across his fingers, and he clenched his fist.

“That may not be a bad thing,” he muttered back. He raised his hand higher, and more guards fell back with nervous faces, their eyes travelling from his burning hand to his wild red hair and back again. “It saves time on convincing everyone to let us through. I just wish I could do this on purpose.”

“The gates are still barred,” Zhu Yi said. “And if we open them somehow, we’re leaving the city open to the demon forces on the other side.

“There’s another way,” Daisuke said, flicking his eyes towards a dark little door set deep in the walls of the gatehouse, and then glancing up. Jing Yun grinned as he caught on to Daisuke’s plan. Jing Yun had the lock picked and the door opened on the narrow little staircase before the other Seishi had even realised what he was doing. He stood back with a flourish, and they started up the stairs in single file.

The guards that they encountered on the wall didn’t slow them up much, and Daisuke moved quickly to the parapet, leaning out to get a better vantage. He eyed the edge of the deep forest far beyond the city plains, and began to calculate the distance and the dangers involved.

Beside him, Marin was staring out over the churned up wasteland beyond the city walls and the moat that ran around it. The willows that bordered the wide moat had been ripped up and there was still smoke rising from the wreckage of the farmhouses outside the walls and the torn up farmlands beyond that.

“Oh my god,” Marin breathed in dismay.

“The troops inside the city managed to hold off the oni, but the monsters destroyed the countryside before the lords and their reinforcements arrived,” Daisuke told her, but his attention was on the patches of movement in the ruins. Large, shambling figures moved between the broken houses, and in the distance he could see a cohort of mounted troops fighting a pitched battle with a huge creature that took out a horse and rider with one easy blow before it staggered under the combined assault.

“Zifeng’s dad and his army broke up the main attack on the city when they got here, and most of the oni and tengu took off – it’s like whatever is leading them isn’t really interested in taking the city. They mill around, and they fight, but this-“ he gestured at the scene below them “- this is harassment, not a war. Whatever they wanted, the city isn’t it.”

“I think we can all guess what they were really after,” Zhu Yi pointed out, shooting a wry look at Marin. “And now we’ve got to get her out of here before Tai Yi Jun figures out that she’s back.”

“Any thoughts about that, god-boy?” Jing Yun asked, and Daisuke made a rude gesture at him.

He turned to Tian Zhen. “Feeling up to a little gardening?” he asked.

Tian Zhen gave him a quick nod and a smile. He spread his hands, and vines climbed the high stone wall.

“Time to go,” Daisuke said decisively, reaching for one of the creepers that curled up past the parapet, and they followed him over the edge.

~~~~~

It was difficult climbing down Tian Zhen’s vines in the clothes that Marin had worn from the other world. She hadn’t really realised how close-fitting her blouse and skirt were until she was trying to scramble down the side of a city wall without flashing her underwear at the whole countryside, and she clamped down on the slightly hysterical giggle that she could feel welling up in her chest.

They managed to make it across the broad moat on a raft cobbled together of ruined bits of timber and willow branches and more of Tian Zhen’s magic, and began the nerve-wracking journey across the destroyed fields that lay between the city and forest.

It took hours, creeping past the oni that lumbered through the ruins. From a distance, the oni were big, but up close they were huge and terrifying, hairy creatures with leathery, livid faces full of teeth and tusks and horns. Marin followed Daisuke past one creature squatting in the middle of a still-smoking farmyard, gnawing on something that Marin hoped was a pig or a goat, and she felt Daisuke take her hand. He kept throwing her glances as if he was afraid that she would disappear again if he took his eyes off her for too long, and she squeezed his hand gently, giving him a strained smile.

“How bad has it been here?” she asked him in a whisper as they took cover in the shadow of a broken wall, and Daisuke grimaced.

“Pretty bad. That thing in Tai Yi Jun isn’t even trying to hide itself anymore.” He jabbed a thumb upwards at the sky, and Marin looked up. She hadn’t noticed it before, in the scramble to get out of the city, but she couldn’t help the shocked, sharp inhalation. Even in broad daylight, the sky was bruised with dark, spidery patches that sent a chill down her spine.

“You wait until you see it tonight,” Daisuke said grimly, his eyes on the monsters lumbering past. “The stars are disappearing.”

“What do you mean, _disappearing_?”

“I mean, they’re gone. I can feel it. The Pole Star and everything around it are gone, and the stars to the east and west are almost gone too. Not clouded. Not obscured. There’s just an emptiness where they ought to be. It’s not the right season for the Northern constellations, but I can feel that they’re not there either.”

Marin’s mind threw up the memory of her mirror vision, and the bile rose in her throat.

“ _All-consuming void …_ ” she said sickly.

“As above, so below,” Daisuke responded darkly. “It’s only a matter of time.”

The oni shambled away and Daisuke tugged her to her feet, signalling to the rest of the Seishi. “Let’s get moving before they come back.”

Occasionally throughout the day they caught a glimpse of another mounted party of cavalry or archers from the city, engaged in a swift, ferocious battle with the monsters or chasing them down, but Daisuke was right – there was no real cohesion among the oni. They were just as likely to fight each other over a contested scrap as they were to turn on the defended city. Swarms of tengu were still circling over the city, and every so often a handful of them would break off and risk the archers on the walls to attempt to land in the city. Some even made it. More were brought down by the answering hail of arrows. It didn’t stop more crows from trying.

The late afternoon sun was starting to grow long by the time they finally made it to the tree line, out of reach of the oni under the thick growth of elm and willow, and out of sight of the tengu who still wheeled in the fading sky as night crept in. When Daisuke eventually looked to Zhu Yi and Zifeng as the ones who would know the terrain, and called a halt, Marin collapsed onto a fallen log and looked properly at her Seishi.

They were all looking a little more worn, and more exhausted than when she’d last seen them before the fight with Tai Yi Jun and before she’d been yanked through the book. Daisuke’s red hair was a little longer, falling in a dark, scruffy sweep over his face, and she could see the purple stain of bruises along his jaw. Meixing’s forearm was bandaged, and she could see a half-healed scar running down Zhu Yi’s cheek now.

“How long have I been gone?” she asked quietly.

“A month, give or take,” Daisuke responded. “I sort of lost track of time. But it’s about that.”

He lowered himself down to sit next to Marin and she could feel his warmth through the thin material of her blouse.

“You made the wish, and we all ended up here, but there was no sign of you.” There were shadows in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “The tengu couldn’t find us as long as we stayed inside the Temple wards, so that’s where we’ve been, trying to work out what to do next.”

“And what was all that, back at the Temple?” she asked.

“A few days ago, the emperor’s guards managed to snatch Meixing and hauled her back to the palace. Jing Yun, Tian Zhen and I staged a very noisy, very public distraction while Zifeng and Xuelian and Zhu Yi rescued her. Today the emperor sent Marquis Zhao after us.” Daisuke flicked a quick glance in Zifeng’s direction. “They’ve both taken our activities as a personal insult for various reasons - it turns out the marquis doesn’t like his son hanging around with riffraff like us. And then you dropped in.”

“I wound up back in the National Library where I was when I found the Four Gods Sky and Earth,” she told him. “It was only a couple of hours for me, and then I worked out where the book was, tracked it down, and came back here to get you out of trouble.”

Marin could see Daisuke grinning at her, and felt that familiar kick in her pulse.

“Clever girl,” he said.

“Damn straight, I am. Your mother sends her love, by the way,” Marin said offhandedly, enjoying the way his grin froze in shock.

“Wait, you met my mother?”

“We had tea together.” Daisuke was still speechless, and Marin gave him an innocent smile. “Well, where did you think the book was? Your mother’s been reading about our adventures the whole time you’ve been away.”

She glanced around the circle of Seishi and became aware of something missing.

“Where’s Zhang Yong?” she asked, and something changed in the air. She caught the exchange of unhappy, tense glances.

Eventually Zhu Yi said, “We don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“The wish brought us back to the temple,” Daisuke said, gesturing at the trees in the direction of the city, “and sent you home, apparently. But Zhang Yong didn’t turn up here with us, and we’ve had no sign of him.”

She was still thinking of the young Seishi and the damaged sky after everyone else had drifted away to gather firewood, or set up bedrolls for the night, or visit the nearby stream. Marin stayed staring into the campfire. She looked up briefly when Xuelian sank onto the log beside her and settled the skirts of her gown carefully.

“What do you think happened to Zhang Yong?” Marin asked quietly, and Xuelian’s mouth tightened.

“What I want to know is what’s happened to your shoulder?” the doctor deflected. “I can tell by the way you’re carrying yourself that you’ve damaged it somehow.”

Marin hesitated for a long moment, then she reached up to undo the top few buttons of her blouse. Without saying anything, she slid the soft fabric off her shoulder, and heard Xuelian’s indrawn breath.

“I see,” Xuelian said clinically. She pushed the blouse to one side, her lips pursed as she examined the damage.

“The wish?” she asked quietly, and Marin nodded. Without another word, Xuelian went to her medicine chest and brought out a small pot which she handed to Marin. It was full of a dark, waxy balm with a pungent smell.

“Not that it will do much good,” Xuelian said. “The damage is internal, and the nerve damage blocks most of the pain you should be feeling.”

Xuelian reached out and clasped a firm hand around Marin’s shoulder.

“See? I can feel the heat under your skin still.”

“There’s not much I can do about it. All those accounts of the priestess being consumed by the beast god, it turns out that’s not a metaphor, but we need those two wishes,” she added grimly. Marin slid the blouse back up over her shoulder, rearranging everything. “And, as you said, it doesn’t hurt much now.”

She reached for the notebook she’d brought from the other world. By the time everyone had returned from their tasks, and they were all bustling over preparing what little food they’d managed to bring with them from the temple, Marin was already deep in pouring over the book in her hands. She spared Daisuke a quick glance and a warmer smile as he came up behind her, then turned back to the notebook.

“Where did that come from?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder. He dropped a kiss on her cheek and she absently accepted it. “God, I’ve missed you.”

He moved away just far enough to collect a bowl of whatever it was that was heating in a pot over the fire, then came back to sit beside her.

“It’s Einosuke Okuda’s notes,” Marin told him.

“The guy who translated the Book of Sky and Earth?” Daisuke remembered, and Marin gave him another quick smile before she turned back to the book.

“Your mother had the notes and she gave them to me. I’m just trying to work out a few things.”

She felt him shake with a sudden laugh.

“Research face,” he teased gently, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“I know it’s important, I just don’t know how. Things aren’t adding up.”

She shifted, moving closer to his warmth.

“For instance, there’s no mention of the tengu that I know of before Takiko Okuda arrived in the Universe of the Four Gods. Or, to put it another way, before Okuda’s translation of the Book of Sky and Earth. I don’t have the resources here to double-check,” she said in frustration, “but I remember references to yaoguai, and all the descriptions match Chinese mythology. So why does a Japanese demon suddenly turn up in the records after a Japanese priestess arrives here?”

Daisuke shrugged. “Well, Okuda did translate the story from Chinese into Japanese, didn’t he? Maybe that changed things. Maybe Okuda rewrote things.”

Marin’s head shot up. She stared at him, arrested.

“Say that again.”

“Okuda rewrote things?” he repeated cautiously.

Marin sat there, staring into space. That felt like the words that she’d been reaching after for a while now. One of the missing puzzle pieces.

She flipped rapidly through the pages, skimming over Okuda’s descriptions of his search through China for the Book of the Four Gods. She stopped at a passage where his handwriting had become agitated and almost illegible.

‘ _I wrote the incantation and felt the book come alive…’_

She kept going, almost holding her breath as she read. Beside her, Daisuke had finished eating and was drawing patterns in the dirt with a stick. He seemed content to just be close to her, his hand busy outlining increasingly detailed images, while Marin lost herself in her research.

‘ _As I translate, I can feel the power in the words and I can almost sense the world within the pages. Now, if only I can find a way into the book, I can make the wish to the gods that will restore my wife to health…’_

_‘The Universe of the Four Gods will only open to a young girl, a priestess, summoned by one of the gods. I can’t go into that world and make the sacred wish, but my daughter Takiko…’_

_‘This can’t be right! To grant the wishes, the beast god requires His priestess to be joined with His power and consumed by it… I must have mistranslated. I must check my notes… My daughter or my wife, who could make such a choice? No! There must be a way…’_

Marin re-read that first paragraph again – ‘ _I wrote the incantation and felt the book come alive…’_

“ _Kotodama,_ ” Marin murmured, her mind busy putting things together. “Words have power.”

And so did illustrations. Marin watched Daisuke idly sketching out their escape from Rongyao on the bare ground in a few vivid strokes, remembering the lightning snap of power when she had started to read the incantation at the beginning of the Records, and the half-formed ideas crystallised.

She had her answer, and now she knew she needed to find the incantation. There was no trace or translation of it in Okuda’s notes, and the book itself was a world away on Daisuke’s desk. The Chronicles of Suzaku was at the bottom of the sea in Beijia, and that wasn’t what she needed anyway. No, what she needed was in the Records of the Four Gods. And that was in Tai Yi Jun’s library.

“I have a bad feeling that we need to go back to Mt Daichi,” she said reluctantly.

Daisuke stared at her silently for a long moment.

“You have a plan,” Daisuke said, but it wasn’t really a question.

“You’re not going to like it,” Marin told him.

Their gaze met for one long moment, then he said, “Okay.”Marin sucked in a deep breath. The thought flashed across her mind that maybe she’d been hoping that he’d talk her out of this.

“Just like that? Okay?” she asked incredulously. “What if I’ve got this wrong?”

Daisuke snorted. “You’re usually right.”

“Usually?”

“Well, you thought I was an irritating jerk when we first met.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” she muttered.

“If you believe we need to go to Mt Daichi, then that’s what we do. We’ve got to do something – we can’t just sit around here waiting for Tai Yi Jun’s minions to catch up with us – and you’ve got an idea. My money’s on you.”

She swallowed, feeling suddenly cold. “No pressure.”

The rest of the Seishi were gathered around them now.

“So we’re heading back to Mt Daichi,” Jing Yun summed up, ladling out a bowl from the pot beside the fire pit. “Back to Tai Yi Jun’s lair.”

“That’s about it,” Daisuke said lightly, but Marin noticed that no one argued with him. Things had really changed in the time she’d been gone.

“We have to get to Mt Daichi,” Marin said. “I need to see the Records of the Four Gods.”

“You didn’t find anything the last time we were there,” Xuelian pointed out.

“The difference is, I know what I’m looking for now. And I’m not making my last wishes until I’m absolutely sure it’s going to work,” she said grimly. “If I’m going to destroy an entire world, I want to be sure we can get it back again.”

There was a dead silence, then Zifeng spoke.

“You are going to use your wishes to destroy the Universe of the Four Gods,” he said, and his usually glass-smooth voice was as rough as gravel. Behind him, Xuelian made an abbreviated movement towards him, and her eyes were fixed on him with tight concern.

“I don’t see any other way,” Marin said quietly. She looked down at her lap, avoiding the eyes of her companions. The tension stretched on.

Then Jing Yun gave an exaggerated sigh. “After all of this, I’d be tempted to wish for the end of the world too,” he said, pulling a face at the bowl of mush in his hands. “If it means never having to touch another mouthful of gruel or stew, I’m all in favour.”

“Works for me,” Zhu Yi shrugged. “If there’s anything left standing when we’re done, I’ll probably be arrested and executed for desertion, so the end of the world’s looking pretty good right now.”

“My family will never take me back,” Xuelian said with a quiet bitterness. She repacked the jars back into her medical chest with meticulous care. “All I ever wanted was to be a royal physician like my ancestors, and make my father and mother proud, but that’s all gone now anyway.”

Meixing had her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared into the heart of the campfire.

“I wish the world would end,” she said in a small voice, “if it meant I didn’t have to go back to the palace.”

“You’re not going back there.” Tian Zhen’s voice was deep and certain, and she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “When this is all done, if we’re still alive, you’re coming back to the farm with me so my mother can fuss over you like the daughter she always wanted, and my father will spoil you rotten and love you like you deserve. And I’ll teach my little sister Meixing how to grow flowers and pick cherries and plums. The emperor can look for you all he wants, but we’ll keep you safe.”

Meixing’s eyes shone bright with tears in the firelight.

“I’d like that,” she whispered, and her voice was muffled as she hid her face in her arms, her shoulders shaking.

“If we survive any of this, I want to go find somewhere warm with no demons and no gods. You should come with me,” Jing Yun said with studied casualness in Zhu Yi’s direction. “There’s got to be something out there better than the army.”

Zhu Yi gave him an odd look, as if he didn’t understand the question. “Of course I’m coming with you.”

Marin thought she might have been the only one who heard the soft hitch of Jing Yun’s breath in response.

“I wish I had never been marked by Suzaku,” Zifeng said tonelessly. His eyes flickered over Marin briefly, then he turned and walked away.

For a long moment, Marin stared down at her hands, trying to work up the courage, then she pushed herself to her feet. Daisuke looked up, but she shot him a glance and a quick shake of her head as she followed Zifeng into the shadow of the trees.

He was some distance from their campsite, a dim blur of dusty white robes in the forest, by the time she caught up with him.

Marin tentatively reached out to him.

“Zifeng, I’m so sorry-” He lifted a hand abruptly, cutting her off.

“Don’t.”

He stalked away a few paces, then wheeled to face her.

“Do you truly intend to use your wishes to destroy this world?” he asked harshly, and Marin pulled back.

“I don’t see any other way. Chaos overwhelmed the Great Sage, it claimed three out of the four beast gods, and I felt what it did to the priestesses who tried to stop it. It’s devouring the sky, and the earth will be next. And if I just wish for everything to go back to the way it was then it will still be there. All we’ve got left is two wishes to defeat it, and this is the only way I can think of to use them.”

“So after everything, after everything I’ve done, we can’t save the world anyway. I abandoned my duty to my emperor and my country. I betrayed my father and left my men stranded in Beijia with no hope of return. I have fought and endured to save this world and be worthy of you, and it’s all for nothing.”

“Zifeng –“

“We were meant to be together! All of this, this whole quest, was supposed to bring us together. But I could never compete with a god,” he said bitterly.

Marin opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it. After all, what could she say that would make it any better for Zifeng?

“How can you be so certain that you can bring this world back?”

“Not me,” Marin told him. “Daisuke. And it’s a risk, but the alternative is that the Chaos inhabiting Tai Yi Jun does to everything and everyone what it did to the other gods and their priestesses with no hope of rewriting the world again. I felt it, Zifeng. I felt every second of what it did to them, and I will do whatever it takes to prevent that.”

The steely whisper inside her that had threatened to let the world burn if Daisuke was harmed reminded her that, if nothing else, at least she would send Daisuke safely home. But she didn’t say that out loud.

“Xuelian told me about your injuries from the last wish,” he told her. “And what they mean. You don’t expect to survive, do you?”

Marin felt a swift blaze of anger burn through her at Zifeng, at the gods who had called her here, at the whole damn _universe_ that kept expecting her to pick up the mess it had made, and Zifeng recoiled as he met her eyes.

“Did you think that fixing this was going to come without a sacrifice?” she said furiously. “That’s what the priestess _is._ ”

Zifeng’s expression shifted to an uncomfortable mix of pity and horror.

“And you must ask Daisuke to fulfill his role as Suzaku,” he said slowly as understanding dawned. “For the first time, I am glad that I am not the one you chose to love. I do not think that I would have the fortitude to grant you those wishes, knowing what it would cost.”

As he turned and walked away, he glanced back over his shoulder.

“I do not think that Suzaku’s love will bring any of us happiness.”

~~~~~

Daisuke pushed away from the tree where he’d been leaning in the shadows and came towards her casually. Marin didn’t realise that she was crying until he quickened his pace and his hand came up to cup her damp cheek. His gaze flickered in Zifeng’s direction.

“What did he say to you?”

“Nothing that wasn’t true.” She brushed away the tears and drew a shuddering breath. “I never wanted to hurt Zifeng like that. Or Xuelian. And you.”

“If you hadn’t, we’d all be worse than dead by now,” he said so matter-of-factly that it jolted her. “You did what you had to do, and it’s not your fault that the situation you’re dealing with sucks. If anything, this is all on me, because Suzaku somehow dragged you into this mess in the first place.”

Daisuke gathered her close, and she let herself melt into him when his arms went around her. He pressed his lips to her hair.

“I wish you didn’t have to deal with this,” he whispered against her ear in that husky voice that sent shivers down her spine. “I wish you were safe back in our world, but there’s no one else I’d trust more to see what has to be done and do it, and I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“I couldn’t leave you like that,” Marin whispered back, her arms wrapping around him, and he sighed into the curve of her neck. “Who knows what you’d get up to without me to keep you in line?”

He kissed her softly at the juncture of her jaw, and her breath caught. Leaves rustled delicately in the night time breeze, and even in the damaged sky the stars of Suzaku’s constellations shone steady and brilliant as they slipped below the soft, dark horizon of the fading summer.

“You smell good,” he said into her hair. Marin couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

“I had a shower,” she told him. “Do you remember those?”

“I’m so jealous right now.”

He was kissing his way down the curve of her throat, and his hand drifted under the hem of her blouse, sending shivers through her as his fingertips brushed the skin above her waistband.

“Daisuke,” she protested, as the faint sounds from the campsite reached them. “We’re not alone here.”

“At least let me hold you for a while,” he begged, and there was none of his characteristic cockiness in his voice. “I’ve missed you.”

“Your mother is watching all of this.”

The noises from the camp settled again. Daisuke looked up into the few remaining dim stars far overhead.

“Mama, stop reading for a minute,” he told the air. “I’m going to kiss Marin.”

And he did just that.

The world dissolved in bright sparks and a perfect kiss. Marin could feel the rough bark behind her as Daisuke pressed her back against a tree, the warmth of his hands on her, and the intoxicating heat of his mouth on hers. She pushed her fingers through the soft flames of his hair, tangling and tugging him closer into the kiss. He made a desperate little sound that did something indescribable to her as his hands ran like heat over the swell of her hip and up the bare curve of her back under the thin fabric of her blouse.

And his fingertips brushed the burns running down her shoulder. The livid marks in her flesh flared into agonising life at the contact with Suzaku’s hidden heat and she couldn’t help the smothered yelp of pain.

Daisuke jerked back at the sound as if he was the one who’d been burned. He pulled away so fast that Marin almost stumbled until he caught her with uncertain hands on her arms. As soon as she was steady he stepped back, his eyes on her with worry and a hint of fear in the hazel depths.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Marin shook her head.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” She hesitated for a moment, then told him. He needed to know. “The first wish burned me. It’s mostly fine – Xuelian said I won’t feel it much, and she’s given me something for it – but it just hurt a bit just now.”

“When I touched you,” Daisuke said grimly. He was still standing away from her, and she felt a little bit cold now without his touch and his warmth. The hazel in his eyes was darkening with a growing realisation. One hand lifted towards her and jerked back. “Is this going to happen again if you make another wish?”

“We need those two wishes,” Marin insisted, and Daisuke’s eyes narrowed.

“Was this what you meant when you said I wouldn’t like the plan?” he asked quietly. He shoved his hands through his hair and stalked a few paces away from her, then pivoted back to face her. “We’re not doing this.”

“Daisuke.” Her sharp tone cut across his restless pacing and brought him to a halt. Marin met his eyes steadily. “Is your money on me or not?”

He didn’t answer, but he stayed still, watching her.

“Do you really think I’d do this if I thought there was any other possibility? Whatever has taken over Tai Yi Jun is very old and very powerful, and it’s got its hooks into this world. Those wishes are the only chance we’ve got, and I’m not going to not use them because it’ll hurt a bit.”

She glared at him. “I don’t want you to refuse to grant me my wishes because it will hurt me. Because believe me, it’ll hurt me worse if we fail when I could have done something to stop what Tai Yi Jun is doing.”

Daisuke’s fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“It’s not going to be just a bit, though, is it?” he said, his gaze falling on her shoulder.

Before Marin could say anything further, there was an abrupt flurry of raised voices from the campsite, and their heads whipped around. They were running before the sound had died away.

~~~~~

Zifeng left Marin and the camp behind him, needing to be alone with everything roiling through him. He moved silently between the trees, and came to the edge of the stream, startling the creature drinking there. The spindly human shape squawked and scrambled, but before the tengu could morph and take to the air Zifeng’s sword shot out, pinning it to the ground.

The crow’s dark eyes blinked, and the void gazed back at Zifeng from under his sword.

“Greetings, lordling,” Tai Yi Jun’s voice said. The creature turned its neck with a stiff, jerky movement as if it were a puppet, taking in as much of its surroundings as it could from its awkward position. “Border trees, elm and willow. Interesting. Now, where are you going?” the voice speculated.

“It matters not,” Zifeng said, and drew his sword back slightly for the strike.

“And you here all alone, not a companion in sight,” it said with a deep compassion and sorrow. Zifeng’s hand stilled.

“You have given your priestess loyalty and devotion beyond measure, and this is how she rewards you. How does she plan to use those wishes? To save the world you’ve fought so hard to protect, or to be with the man she betrayed you with?”

“Who are you?” Zifeng asked. “ _What_ are you?”

“Oh, I’ve been written into many forms. Chaos, _hundun_. Void. Xingtian Opposing Heaven. Amatsu-Mikaboshi.” The creature’s mouth stretched in an unsettling smile. “I like that one. Dread Star of Heaven sounds so grandiose, although strictly speaking it’s not very accurate. I was around long before there ever were stars, or a Heaven. All this was mine before that witch Tai Yi Jun willed herself into existence and stole it all from me.”

The crow-creature jerked furiously as if someone had yanked on its puppet strings.

“All I want is to take back what’s mine,” the tengu snarled in the old woman’s voice. “Surely you, of all people, should understand. That damn bird took everything from you – your honour, your place, your destiny.” Jet black eyes fixed on him knowingly. “Your true love. I could help you get all of that back.”

“Where is Zhang Yong?”

The tengu’s head tilted erratically.

“What?” Tai Yi Jun asked sharply through the creature’s beaky lips.

“What has become of Zhang Yong?” he repeated expressionlessly, and when there was no response, Zifeng severed the tengu’s head with one swift movement. It slumped as the living darkness vanished from its eyes, and Zifeng walked back the way he came until he had reached the campsite.

The Seishi eyed the naked sword in his hand, and the bead of crow’s blood that rolled down its edge to fall gently into the dust at his feet. Jing Yun came to his feet, one hand on his own weapons, but Zifeng didn’t acknowledge the wary tension in the thief’s stance, and when Marin and Daisuke hurried into the clearing he barely registered their dishevelled state.

“Tai Yi Jun has made contact with me through a tengu minion,” he said tonelessly. “We need to leave here before she locates where we are and where we are going.”


	24. Fire in the Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note that there's a brief but slightly graphic mention of a death in the last two paragraphs of this chapter.

# Fire in the Fog

Whatever it takes

‘Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins

I do whatever it takes

‘Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains

Whatever it takes

You take me to the top I’m ready for

Whatever it takes

‘Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins

I do what it takes

[Whatever It Takes: Imagine Dragons]

They had cleared the farthest edge of the forest by the time the tengu arrived like a gathering storm, blotting out the sky and spiralling in a dark, screaming tornado that touched down where their campsite had been. Marin watched in sick horror through the branches of the tree that sheltered the group while the vast mass of crows lifted again and split like the points of a compass, streaming away in all directions, searching.

“Time to go.” Marin jolted when Daisuke’s voice broke the sudden silence left by the tengu. “If we’re lucky, and we move fast, Tai Yi Jun, or Amatsu-Mikaboshi, whatever it’s calling itself now, won’t figure out exactly where we’re heading long enough for us to reach the mountain.”

“After all,” Jing Yun added, shouldering his packs as everyone came to their feet and gathered their things together, “what kind of idiots would go back there?”

The journey from Rongyao was a rushed and nightmarish trip, trying to stay out of sight of the flocks of crows that wheeled and screamed in the sky above them. They sighted oni, and smoke billowing up in the distance that Marin tried to not think about too hard. Every plume of smoke was another village that the demons and monsters had plundered.

Daisuke shot her a look as they flattened themselves behind a stand of trees, out of sight of the road.

“The faster we get to Mt Daichi, the faster we can end all this,” he whispered.

“I know,” she breathed back. She leaned in to his warmth, but he had already pushed himself to his feet, striding ahead a little too fast.

At night they kept going for as long as they were able to see in the faint moonlight, and then took shelter, taking it in turns to keep careful watch. No one complained about the pace. No one wanted to linger for long, and the nights were cold without a campfire to draw attention.

When they paused for the night to eat and sleep, Daisuke was too restless to sit still. The moment that he’d bolted down a few mouthfuls he was on his feet again, pacing. Jing Yun shot him a measuring glance, but didn’t say anything, and when Daisuke wandered impatiently beyond their small circle, Marin got up to follow him.

“You’re avoiding me,” she said when she caught up with him, and Daisuke wheeled around.

“Hell, yeah, I’m avoiding you!” he threw back at her incredulously. “Do you think it’s easy to keep my hands to myself when you’re so close?”

“I’m not made of glass, you know.” Marin moved towards him, and Daisuke backed up.

“And I’m not going to burn you just for the sake of a few kisses!”

“Maybe I think it’s worth it,” Marin snapped back.

“I know I’m irresistible,” Daisuke said with a ghost of his usual grin, but Marin wouldn’t let herself fall for the distraction. “If it was the other way round, would you say it was worth it?”

_Damn it_ , she hated it when he was right. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak a distant, thunderous growl rolled through the ground and echoed off the mountain walls.

“What the hell was that?” she heard Jing Yun ask, and Meixing hissed at him to _shush!_ as another far-off snarl rose through the thickening mist.

“Byakko,” Daisuke uttered under his breath, and Marin nodded. “The gods are hunting us.”

A huge, dark shape ghosted across the stars, and a chill ran down Marin’s spine. They all stayed perfectly still, eyes fixed on the undulating shadow that blotted out the stars until it was gone.

“Seiryuu,” Marin whispered back. “They haven’t found us yet, but they’re getting closer.”

None of them slept for the rest of the night, and the moment it was light enough to see the path and avoid stumbling to their deaths in the dark, they shouldered the packs that they had already made ready and pushed on up the narrowing mountain trail.

~~~~~

Daylight didn’t bring much better visibility. The fog had drawn in, heavy and damp and smothering, and Daisuke wasn’t the only one who flinched every time a breath of wind stirred the grey air into eddies. Zhu Yi was, of course, the one who first sighted the dragon sliding silently through the valleys between the sandstone spires of the mountain, and he sent the wordless alarm down the line of the Seishi with a tap on each shoulder and a pointed finger.

The huge shape of Seiryuu spiralled below them in the mist, winding His way around the mountain, searching. The Seishi flattened themselves against the mountain under the scant cover of the bushes, and Daisuke could hear Marin’s ragged breathing beside him.

He kept his eyes fixed on the dragon, his fingers twitching impatiently against the hilts of his daggers. It was getting closer, and before too long it would find them. If they broke cover and ran, it would be on them in an instant. Or Seiryuu would bring Amatsu-Mikaboshi down on them.

He turned his head. “I have to stop Seiryuu before He finds us,” he breathed into Marin’s ear.

“What are you planning?” she hissed back. “Daisuke-“

“Once He knows where we are, then either we’re dragon fodder, or Amatsu-Mikaboshi will know if we let Seiryuu get away back to them. This is my chance to stop Him.”

Before Marin could stop him, Daisuke pushed himself to his feet and broke into a run towards the edge of the cliff. He leaped.

Behind him, Marin shrieked, and Daisuke’s name echoed off the mountains around them.

~~~~~

The plunge off the mountainside felt like flying, and in spite of probable imminent death Daisuke found himself lighting up with a grin. He spread his arms and felt the heat under his skin kick into life.

He’d done this before by accident, but this time he reached for that heat and let it loose, and it blazed into a glorious bonfire. Streaks of fire trailed behind him as he fell like a meteor, and when he struck the dragon from above they rolled together in a hiss of sparks and steam.

Daisuke caught the flames around his fist and wielded them like a whip, snapping it at the dragon, who writhed and lashed back at him with a snarl that shuddered and shook the mountains. Daisuke catapulted himself back into the air with a laugh, and came down on Seiryuu’s back. He was starting to get the hang of this, and focused on the handful of fire that he held. _What else could he do with it_?

Daisuke hurled the fistful of flames straight at Seiryuu. The dragon bellowed as the crackling ball caught Him in the muzzle and exploded, and Daisuke nearly lost his balance as the beast god twisted away in pain.

“Try harder, Snake Legs!” Daisuke taunted as he came back to his feet. He reached for his daggers, and the flames in his hands coiled over the hilts and along the blades, reflecting flickers of gold and red in the metal as he pulled them free of their sheaths.

The dragon clashed savage teeth, biting at the space where Daisuke had been, but Daisuke was already pivoting away in a tornado of fire to bury a dagger in Seiryuu’s side as the dragon bucked and twisted back on Himself and shook free, scattering ichor on the wind.

Daisuke was the burning flame that danced just out of reach. He barely felt the fangs that scraped down his shoulder and ripped through his sleeve. The blood flamed in his veins and he didn’t feel it drip down his side as his grin grew wider. He sliced at Seiryuu’s hide.

The dragon twisted furiously and Daisuke somersaulted into a dizzying fall. He flung his arms wide and the waiting fire caught him and bore him up. He reached out and hooked an arm around Seiryuu’s hind leg. Talons slashed at him. They raked bloody grooves down his back, but Daisuke hung on and lashed at Seiryuu’s soft underbelly with a whip of flames.

Seiryuu bellowed His pain and rage, and the mountains echoed with it.

Seiryuu’s tail whipped around, and a sandstone spire broke with a thunderous crack, tumbling into the treetops far below. The dragon lashed around again, trying to shake Daisuke loose.

As Daisuke swung precariously from Seiryuu’s wicked talons, trying not to think too hard about the drop under him, he heard a snarl vibrate up from the trees below. Something big was moving up the mountain. The trees at the edge of the rock face below the Seishi shivered, and the massive white shape of Byakko stalked into view.

Daisuke swore, and the sounds were whipped away by the wind as the huge predator fixed him with lethal intent.

With a deep-throated roar, Byakko leaped.

Daisuke heard the hiss before a red-fletched arrow struck the tiger god in mid-air, and a hail of impossibly fast arrows followed, glowing scarlet as they flew and bit into Byakko’s hide, but the tiger barely seemed to notice.

Then the beast hit him and tore him from his precarious hold on Seiryuu. Daisuke was in free-fall and the wind was sharp with the smell of burning fur as he and the tiger tumbled out of the air in a rolling, furious whirlwind of fire and teeth.

Byakko bore him down, and in the heavy grey sky Daisuke caught a glimpse of Seiryuu spiralling free.

“Don’t let Seiryuu get away!” he shouted into the wind.

They must have heard him. Tian Zhen’s vines shot through the air to tangle themselves around Seiryuu and hold the dragon in a living net. As he fell, Daisuke caught a glimpse of Tian Zhen braced at the edge of the mountain path, his hands outstretched and straining to hold the dragon god.

Byakko’s claws sank into Daisuke, and Daisuke couldn’t help the howl of pain as they both smashed into the ground with bone-breaking force.

The huge tiger rolled free, coming up into a snarling crouch as Daisuke lay there for too long, breathing hard and staring up into the wheeling heavens.

When Byakko sprang, Daisuke heard Marin’s scream ring through the mountains, and it galvanised him. It drove his arm, still gripping his dagger and wreathed in angry flames, up and into the heart of the god as it came down on him.

Byakko roared. He collapsed around the blade buried in His chest and slammed into Daisuke, huge paws scrabbling and drawing blood as Daisuke’s celestial flames swept over Him.

Seiryuu answered, and tore free of the vines binding Him as He flung His head back and howled.

The life faded out of Byakko’s eyes, and Daisuke shoved himself free of the fallen god.

The tiger god died. Daisuke was flung back into the mountain by the concussion of the blast, scoured by the blizzard of stardust as Byakko exploded. There was a deafening crack and thunder as huge chunks of sandstone broke and crashed into the valleys deep below and the spires crumbled around them. The noise went on as more and more of the sandstone peaks dropped away into the mist and the mountains fell apart.

Back on the path, Tian Zhen staggered, and Seiryuu whipped free into the sky. Daisuke stumbled to his feet, reeling, as he swore furiously. Blood dripped down and caked him with gritty sand, and every breath stung, but his attention was fixed on the thick grey sky above him, and the dragon escaping back to Amatsu-Mikaboshi with news of where they were and where they were going. It took him a moment to realise that something wasn’t right, and he swayed on his feet, blinking as the dragon seemed to double back and grow larger.

He blinked again.

“Oh, shit.”

And that was all he had time for before Seiryuu roared down at him from above. His arms came up instinctively, daggers bursting into flames, as the force of the dragon shoved him backwards before it peeled away a heartbeat before smashing into the cliffside.

When the beast came back at him, Daisuke was ready this time.

The fog hit before the dragon did, swirling fiercely around Daisuke and bringing a mist of rain that hissed and damped the flames that wrapped around him. Daisuke dragged heat up from the ground through the soles of his feet, burning away the fog, and Seiryuu was there, almost on top of him. Daisuke’s daggers became arcs of light cutting through the heavy, damp air.

Seiryuu writhed away. The flick of His tail smacked into Daisuke, and he staggered.

He had to keep Seiryuu here and grounded. As long as the dragon wanted to kill him more than anything else, it would stay focused on him.

“Hey, Snake Legs!” he shouted. “You missed me!”

The dragon came at him fast from out of the mist again. Daisuke pivoted away. His blades slashed and he knew he’d hit when Seiryuu bellowed. The fog was closing in again, and Daisuke burned hotter. He ignored the crackle of branches catching fire, and the soft _whump_ of undergrowth going up in flames. His eyes were narrowed, fixed on the roiling fog beyond the sharp drop of the cliff. Something stirred.

Daisuke’s daggers were coming up to meet it even as the beast god materialised. He felt it hit, felt it smash him into the rock face behind him, even as one blade ripped along the dragon’s side, snagging on the scales and pulling free. Daisuke felt himself falling.

Fire was sweeping out of control along the line of the mountainside, catching in the trees now.

“Daisuke!” He heard Marin scream his name, and her echo bounced it back again and again from the crumbling spires of sandstone reaching up out of the fog and trees. The dragon’s head whipped around to find the sound. It gathered and coiled, launching itself at the path above, where the Seishi watched in horror.

_Marin!_ Daisuke was on his feet.

Suzaku’s flames shot up like a beacon, scorching the air and the stone beneath. With a wordless shout, Daisuke threw himself through the rippling heat to bring the dragon down. He plunged the daggers bright as flames into the dragon’s neck and leaned into the thrust with all his strength, pinning the beast to the ground.

Fire ran up the length of his blades, and he forced it into the wounds until Seiryuu’s azure hide glowed like a forge. Scales blackened and charred, peeling back from the blades as he drove them deeper.

As Seiryuu’s muzzle swung towards him, Daisuke looked into the beast god’s slitted eyes. A membrane slid across them in a slow blink, and the bottomless void stared back.

“You’ll have to try harder next time,” Daisuke snarled.

The dragon’s lipless mouth curled back in a smile that was nastily wrong.

“I know where you are now,” Tai Yi Jun’s voice rasped from Seiryuu’s mouth. “I know where all of you are.”

Daisuke rocked back sharply. As Seiryuu exploded and shook the mountain with the force of His death Daisuke was already running, muttering a litany of curses under his breath.

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ He skidded into the circle of Seishi. “We have to go.”

“Daisuke? What happened?” Marin was asking, staring at his shredded, gritty tunic and the blood soaking it, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged her into a run with him. He didn’t have time to waste on cataloguing the throbbing score marks or the deep punctures from Seiryuu’s talons. He could hear the rest of the Seishi pounding on the path behind him and he kept going.

“How badly do you need to get to the priestess scroll?” he panted, sparing a quick glance back over his shoulder.

“Very!” Marin gasped back. “Daisuke, what is going on? We’re going to fall in this fog if we don’t slow down, and in case you haven’t noticed it’s a long, long way to fall!”

He kept going, but he slowed a little, and the Seishi caught up with them.

“I fucked up,” he told them grimly without looking back. “Amatsu-Mikaboshi has been looking for us since the wish took us all out of there, and when I fought Seiryuu they found us.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the muffled sound of their hurried footsteps in the thickening fog.

“I’ve blown our chance of sneaking into the palace, and they know we’re coming. How badly do you need to see that scroll?” Daisuke asked again. “Can you make the wishes without it?”

Marin was silent for a moment, her hand clutching at his as they picked their way through the coiling mist.

“If I have to, I can make the wishes here and now,” she said reluctantly. “But without the scroll –“ She broke off, and Daisuke felt her fingers tighten painfully in his.

“Without the scroll,” Marin began again, “I can stop Amatsu-Mikaboshi, but I can’t bring the world back afterwards. I need the incantation that started the Universe of the Four Gods.”

“We keep going,” Daisuke said flatly.

Fog pressed down heavily on the mountain and closed in around them, growing thicker all the time. Meixing’s light turned the mist into a wall of grey that never lifted, and they all kept their eyes firmly on the path under their feet even while they kept going as fast as they dared.

Daisuke had the constant, uneasy feeling of a sudden drop just out of sight. Without a frame of reference, it felt as though they were climbing forever in an endless loop, and it was something of a shock when the steep steps ended and the huge red gatehouse loomed abruptly in front of them.

It was very different to the last time they had been here. They stepped gingerly over the gates broken on their hinges and into the courtyard. The mist coiled over the stones, muffling the sound of their feet and hiding the carnage. They climbed as quickly as they dared up to the main building, and as the mist drifted away below them they could see the full extent of the damage.

Inside the courtyard, the mountain wind whistled eerily through the pillars. The paving stones were littered with the broken bodies of crows and half-transformed tengu, feathers sticking in puddles of blood as bright as if it had been shed an hour ago instead of weeks or months. Daisuke swore under his breath as he looked around, and ahead of him Meixing shivered convulsively. Everything looked as though it was stuck in that moment of time when Marin had made the wish and they had all been pulled away.

They scrambled their way through the destruction, and Daisuke tried to not look too closely. Black, sightless eyes seemed to follow them. Vines had coiled in a thick jade tangle, chaining the tengu to the paving stones and the shutters. Tian Zhen’s handiwork. And red-fletched arrows bloomed from the eyes and chests of more tengu corpses. Claw marks gouged every surface and the balustrade on the staircase was shattered. He heard Marin’s sharp inhalation as they recognised one of the bodies caught on the broken fretwork.

It was Zhang Yong, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle and face frozen in a dying rictus of fear and horror. His staff lay, shattered, at his side.

Marin didn’t even seem to realise she was sobbing until Daisuke turned to block the sight from her and his arms wrapped around her, gathering her close.


	25. Whatever It Takes

# Whatever It Takes

Everybody waiting for the fall of man

Everybody praying for the end of times

Everybody hoping they could be the one

I was born to run, I was born for this

[Whatever It Takes: Imagine Dragons]

They didn’t have long to mourn. Something had been waiting for them, and darkness rippled like a river down the steps to meet them. The last dim light in the grey sky went out as if the sun had been swallowed and all the stars had been snuffed out, leaving Suzaku’s constellations as the final, pale pinpricks of defiance.

The first tengu arrowed down through the black air towards them. More and more crows came, blotting out the last stars with ragged wings, until the tengu descended in screaming waves.

Darkness swirled out across the courtyard, swallowing everything.

“Go!” Zifeng shouted imperatively. “We will hold them back!”

The Seishi lit up, one by one, as the marks of Suzaku blazed red. Daisuke met Zifeng’s unyielding dark eyes for one last time as Zifeng inclined his head stiffly, and Tamahome’s mark burned like a brand on the swordsman’s brow.

Zhao Zifeng swept up his sword to meet the coming attack.

And Daisuke gritted his teeth as he turned to run. Beside him he could see Marin hesitate, her wide eyes on the courtyard, and he risked a gentle shove to push her into motion. He saw her close her eyes in anguish and turn. With the shrieking, ringing noise of deadly battle behind them, Marin and Daisuke broke into a run.

They veered sharply away from the main palace building towards the library, trying not to trip in the darkness. Down the corridor of pillars, Daisuke followed Marin as she kilted up her skirts. Her hair was unravelling in wild disarray. They hit the doors of the archive chamber and shoved them open as Meixing’s brilliant light exploded behind them and tengu rained out of the air, shrieking in destruction as more swept in to take their place.

Marin stumbled through the doors and Daisuke spilled in behind her. Before he could say anything, there was a thunderous roar. Daisuke staggered, feeling some force break and whiplash through him as the walls of the palace bowed outwards and scrolls rained down around them with deafening noise.

“It’s here!” he shouted.

Daisuke scrambled backwards, dragging Marin with him. Past the falling scrolls and shelves he could see Tai Yi Jun’s huge bronze mirror swell and bulge, and then something stepped through.

Darkness rippled over the floor, swallowing everything it touched, and sharp, bone-grey spurs unfurled wings of sulphur and shadow that swept up into the rafters overhead.

“I’ve been looking for you,” a dry, reptilian whisper crept and reverberated through the maze of shelves.

Daisuke spread his hands a little. “Here we are.”

“I think I’m offended,” the voice said. “I had thought you returned to see me, not my collection of books.”

Daisuke backed up, working himself and Marin towards one of the rows still standing.

“Well, our Priestess does like a good read,” he said lightly.

“Whatever could she be looking for?” the darkness speculated, but there was an edge of unease to it as it shifted slowly closer.

Daisuke felt the heat spark under his skin, and _pulled_ it into his palms, feeling the flames dance over his fingertips and race up his forearms. Flames ran down the blades of his daggers, playing over the faces of the bronze firebirds and turning them into wicked, winking figures with a life of their own. He grinned.

“Get going,” he said under his breath to Marin, jerking his chin swiftly towards the corridor of books. “It’s my turn to hit something.”

Marin hesitated as if she was going to say something, then with a quick shake of her head she ran for the Records of the Four Gods.

Daisuke shook his shoulders loose and shifted his stance, his full attention on the looming shadows now.

“Oh, don’t worry,” the shadows chuckled. “I have no interest in your little girlfriend there as long as I have you to play with. No god, no wishes.”

“I might not be that easy to kill,” Daisuke challenged, his grin growing sharper.

The shadows stalked him. He let them, drawing the condensing darkness into the narrow spaces away from Marin.

“Yes, you have the demise of three gods to your credit. Although they weren’t really _themselves_ when you fought them. They weren’t very satisfactory puppets, and Genbu was long gone before you stuck your little knives in His withered husk. I felt that, you know. I should have known then that you were Suzaku.” There was a susurration of a dry chuckle. “I had hoped that Seiryuu and Byakko would take care of you for me, but I suppose I’ll just have to do it myself.”

“You can try,” Daisuke taunted.

“You creatures. Humans, gods, you’re all so sure of yourself, but it didn’t stop me from taking over your supreme Tai Yi Jun, did it? Do you know what brought down your precious Emperor of Heaven in the end? The sheer arrogance. The beast gods were smart enough to know when they were outmatched, and you were clever enough to go into hiding in another world as the child of Suzaku’s former priestess. But Tai Yi Jun was always so certain of her own superiority.”

The shadows roiled and deepened and formed an indistinct human shape out of abyssal void that came towards him.

“She had the gall to steal _my_ perfect chaos out from under me and scribble worlds all over it. She ripped me from the void and nailed me to your world in stone, but the star stones that pinned me down have cracked and loosened my bindings. And you left the door wide open back into this world when you granted your priestess’ wish to stay with her Tamahome. A god-granted wish is a powerful thing,” the darkness said conversationally.

“In the end, it was all too easy, and then I only had to nudge the beasties into calling on their priestesses to fix everything. That lured the gods out of hiding so I could claim them for my own. And now I have you here – the last one in the set. You were smart enough to run last time. That’s not going to work now.”

Daisuke kept backing up between the shelves, his eyes on the fluctuating figure following him with vaporous wings that swept over them and blotted out the light. He just had to keep its attention for long enough for Marin to find what she needed. He just had to keep from getting killed for that long.

“Did you take over Zhang Yong like you did the gods?” Daisuke asked, and the darkness crackled with laughter.

“Your precious Seishi are still afforded some small protection,” it conceded. “And after all, I didn’t need to.”

The shadows circled and swirled around him, but Daisuke kept his attention fixed on the clotted pitch at the heart of them.

“I took him in after the tragic destruction of his village,” the form said mockingly, and Daisuke was certain in that moment that it had been the author of that destruction. “I trained him, and it didn’t take much to feed that burning anger and shape it for my own purposes. Your little Chiriko had his uses, but in the end he was an inadequate tool.”

Daisuke felt a lightning stab of blinding fury for the boy who had been broken and cast away, and his enemy took advantage of that moment of distraction to strike.

Daisuke danced out of the way. Books and papers shredded like confetti, igniting into brief sparks as they brushed the flames coiling around Daisuke’s hands then falling in charred scraps to the floor. Daisuke grimaced.

“Marin’s not going to be happy about that,” he muttered, then yanked himself out of the way as the wings rushed down at him and he shoved off the shelves with one foot to launch himself into the air. As the bookcase fell with a resounding crash, and another that took down the one past it, and the next, cascading in a cacophony of destruction, Daisuke came down in a streak of fire that tore through the edge of darkness.

The shadows swirled away with a hiss and closed in again, rolling around him like a wave of blackest ink. Daisuke laughed, and pivoted out of reach, pushing off the wreckage. Scorch marks scarred the wood where his daggers struck, and paper fires bloomed in the darkness. Every time he managed to land a hit he heard the whisper of rage, and his grin grew fiercer.

Daisuke had only a split second to realise that he had been backed into a corner and there was nowhere to dodge when the darkness whipped around him in a fury, edged with the sulphurous wings that stretched up into the vault of the ceiling and crashed down over him.

Brute force drove him down. The darkness filled the chamber, swallowing everything and hiding it in sightless shadows. He crouched under the crushing force. Flames dancing like living things around Daisuke as he flexed his fingers against the hilts of his daggers.

Deliberately, he turned his thoughts to his Priestess in the scroll stacks behind him. He called up every memory of her, every moment, and she was never far from his mind anyway. The flick of her dark, wayward hair as she gave him that unimpressed look of hers, the roll of her eyes, and that glorious smile. The look in those beautiful eyes and the way she’d exhale as she ran her hand along a row of books… Daisuke felt Suzaku’s heat rise, and he fanned the flames.

He tasted their first kiss on the bridge again, and gave in to the visceral memory of moving inside her and the way she’d looked as she came undone, the feeling of his world beginning and ending with her.

The all-consuming wonder and terror of the moment that he knew she loved him.

The flames rose higher and swept out in streaks of gold and red as Daisuke braced himself and shoved back, shredding the vaporous wings that were closing in around him.

He felt the welcome heat sweep through him, wreathing him in fire and sparks, and the darkness hissed and reared back as he struck. Daisuke went up in a conflagration of power that swept through the wreckage, and the library blazed in the inferno.

When he came to his feet, the darkness was coiling and writhing just beyond his reach, flapping in burned and tattered rags of shadow where his blades had torn through it. Daisuke’s grin grew sharper.

“Not quite as easy to kill me as you thought it was going to be, is it?” he taunted.

“Oh, clever,” the sibilant voice whispered and rippled around them, but there was an edge to the words. “Clever, clever. Suzaku got the girl. You’re not siphoning off some second-hand passion between the Priestess and Tamahome anymore. This is the pure stuff, the powerful stuff.”

The shadows had retreated a little, coalescing into a vaguely human shape. Sharp white spurs of bone curved in vast wings over it, coiling with a sickly yellow vapour that melted into a lightless black.

“You are aware that it’s not enough to stop me.”

“It’s strong enough to hold you off, though,” Daisuke taunted, and bared his teeth in a bright grin at the darkness.

There was a noise like escaping steam. “Oh, I’ll admit you’ve surprised me. But even the Great One couldn’t keep me out forever. None of you can keep me out forever.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Daisuke challenged, fingering the hilts of his daggers.

There was a dangerous surge that rippled through the earth below and shook the rafters, but Daisuke stood his ground, the fire in his hands flaring brighter, as the force withdrew and regathered.

“Give me Suzaku.” The unsettled darkness solidified for a moment and became Tai Yi Jun. The sly old woman fixed Daisuke with a sidelong, knowing look. “I’ll make it painless for you, and I’ll even send your little priestess back to her own world, safe and sound.”

Daisuke covered the sudden hiss of his breath with a sarcastic laugh. As if she could read his thoughts, Tai Yi Jun gave a cracked chuckle.

“She may hate you, but at least she’ll be alive to hate you.”

“What are you talking about?” Daisuke asked before he could stop himself, and the flames around him flickered and fell back. Tai Yi Jun’s shrewd gaze shifted past his shoulder to where Marin had come up behind him, a tattered silk scrap held tightly in her hand.

“You haven’t told him yet,” Tai Yi Jun gloated.

Daisuke shot Marin a sharp look.

“What is the old bat talking about?”

“The moment your little girlfriend makes those wishes, all that raw power of yours is going to burn her up.”

“Marin?” he said uneasily.

“It’s a risk,” Marin said, and the corners of her mouth were tense, but her eyes met his unflinchingly.

“Give me Suzaku, and I’ll send her home,” Tai Yi Jun proposed again, and Daisuke turned back to the old woman, feeling suddenly divorced from the movement and the sense of his own body.

“You must think I’m a real bastard if you think I’d just let you destroy the Universe of the Four Gods,” he said with a dry mouth.

“But this isn’t a real world, is it?” Tai Yi Jun asked softly. “It’s just a story in a book.”

Daisuke thought of Jing Yun and Zhu Yi and Tian Zhen snuffed out of existence, of bright Meixing and Xuelian, of broken Zhang Yong thrown aside by his beloved master, and proud, loyal Zhao Zifeng who still fought for his Priestess even after she’d left him for another man.

Amatsu-Mikaboshi’s sibilant voice crept into his head persuasively, “Haven’t you realised by now? I am the blank page this world was written on; the only way to get rid of me is to destroy it all. At least if you give me what I want, your priestess will be saved.”


	26. Burn the Ashes

# Burn the Ashes

A constellation of tears on your lashes

Burn everything you love

Then burn the ashes

[My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark: Fall Out Boy]

When Daisuke told her to _Go!_ Marin had a moment of paralysing terror as she glanced at the gathering darkness. She couldn’t leave him there to face it on his own. She couldn’t.

And if she didn’t trust him to bloody well stay alive and not do something monumentally reckless, then everything, everything would be for nothing. This was not her battle – her challenge was somewhere in the walls of shelves behind them.

Marin swallowed everything she wanted to say. She stepped back before Daisuke could say anything else and ran.

Marin skidded down the tight lanes of the bookcases, careless of the mess of dark strands whipping across her face and the silk skirts bundled up around her knees as she ran. She tried to ignore the thunderous crash from behind her, and the noisy pounding of her own heart in her ears.

She leaped over a fallen mound of books, their pages splayed and spines broken, and reached the open space between the shelves where she had studied the Records. The table where it had been was crushed, its lacquered legs broken and the top split by a falling cabinet, but the scroll wasn’t there. Another crash shuddered through the archive chamber, and the lanterns hanging at the end of the aisles swayed precariously as Marin’s head whipped around to follow the sound.

She fought the instinct to run back and help Daisuke, and kept going. _Think, Marin._ She forced herself to focus on the books around her, the ones that were left on the shelves. _Think._ She turned, letting her skirts fall as she scanned the nearby shelves, mentally cataloguing the scrolls among the folios. _Too small, too big, scroll spindles the wrong colour._ _There was a box…_

Marin blocked out the sounds of fighting and destruction. To one side, the stored works were histories of Beijia’s dynastic succession. She dismissed those, and focused on the shelves beyond those, moving quickly down the aisle. _No. No, no…_ her hand ran swiftly along the shelf over treatises on the stars and astronomical charts that gave way to accounts from each of the countries on the advents of the gods. And then… _Yes!_

She snatched up the ornate box and tipped out the heavy scroll as the whole building shook and darkness rolled through the rafters. There was only a tiny puddle of light left from one of the lanterns hanging at the end of the aisle, and Marin almost threw the unravelling scroll towards it. The ancient Records spun out, catching on the shelves and broken furniture with ripping sounds that tore at Marin’s scholarly soul, but she ran down the wide ribbon of yellowing silk, past the portraits of priestesses she knew and the script that grew more faded and antique as the Records unrolled.

There was a soft _clink_ as the scroll reached its end.

Marin dropped to her knees beside the tattered silk and barely legible crude markings that were the earliest words. It was almost impossible to make out the last - _the first_ \- writings at the beginning of the Records of the Four Gods, and she scrambled up again to bring a lantern closer.

With a sigh, Marin made out the words, and for one brief second she let her eyes close in relief. Under her fingertips, the first - _the last_ \- passage thrummed with power, and she pulled her hand back abruptly.

What she did next violated the bedrock of her soul, and she gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut, as she reached out and tore that fragile passage from the scroll. Threads of silk ripped and clung to her hands as she tugged it free from the carved spindles.

Under the ruins of a table she found the crushed remnants of an ink stick and a brush and she prepared them as best she could with the last few drops of water in the broken pot beside them. She closed her eyes, focusing, and then she opened them and began to write a careful translation beside the ancient characters of the incantation on the silk scrap, trying not to think about how she was defacing a sacred treasure. In the far reaches of the library, Marin could hear the _boom_ of falling shelves and the violent crackle of flames, but she fought the instinct to panic and rush. None of this would mean anything if she didn’t get the translation right. She inked the last line, and then Marin stood quickly, refusing to look back at the vandalised Records as she spun around and ran.

She crashed into bookcases as a lightless black engulfed the library, but she kept running towards the fire that sent flames and sparks ripping through the darkness.

_Daisuke!_

Ash rained down over her, and she kept going, clutching the fragment of scroll protectively to her chest.

In the shadowed wreckage of the library, Marin could see Daisuke in front of her. Flames licked down the blades in each hand and his shoulders heaved and bunched as the lightless void took on the form of Tai Yi Jun and said something to him.

“What are you talking about?” Daisuke snapped in response, and the old woman’s eyes shifted to Marin in the dim aisle behind him.

“You haven’t told him yet,” Tai Yi Jun mocked, and Marin tensed. Something else, though, sparked at the back of her mind. Marin’s eyes narrowed as it dawned on her. Tai Yi Jun’s direct attack had failed.

“Haven’t you realised by now?” There was a hint of a smile in the shifting darkness that turned Marin’s stomach, and the words whispered suggestively through the ruins of the library. “The only way to keep me out of this world now is to destroy it. At least this way your priestess will be saved.”

“Until you come for our world too,” Marin interrupted, taking another step forward.

Tai Yi Jun’s form collapsed into darkness as it swelled and lashed out at her, and met the blazing shield of Daisuke’s fire. It recoiled, and gathered again at a safe distance.

“Maybe once I have all four gods, I’ll be feeling lenient,” Amatsu-Mikaboshi’s voice said slyly out of the lightless void under the vaporous wings. “Maybe once I’ve reclaimed this world I won’t need yours. Maybe I might even keep this world intact once I’ve rearranged things to my liking, and your little Seishi too, if they prove useful and not too troublesome.”

“You killed Zhang Yong,” Marin said.

“Oh, please. As if you really cared about that little crawler. He tried to poison your lover there, and you expect me to believe that you’re not happy he’s gone? I did you a favour.”

“You destroyed Tomoe and Yuki. And Natsumi.”

“Their gods would have eaten them if I hadn’t done it first.”

Marin gave a convulsive shudder. “I felt it! I know what you did to them, and to the gods, too. Do you really think I’d let you do that to the whole world?” She sucked in a breath. “Do you really think I’d let you do that to Daisuke?”

“Do you have any choice?”

The darkness crawled closer, and Marin stood her ground, even as it writhed with stomach-curdling intimacy.

“If you make those wishes, you will burn,” it whispered to her.

She said, “I know.”

~~~~~

Daisuke shifted his grip on his daggers as the darkness that had been Tai Yi Jun seemed to contemplate the Priestess. Marin tilted her chin and stared it down, but Daisuke could see the infinitesimal tremble in her clenched hands, then something shifted and its attention turned to Daisuke.

“And you’re really going to let her do this?” it asked, and it sounded as though there was an undercurrent of rising panic behind the incredulously mocking tone.

But Daisuke’s gaze was fixed on Marin’s dark eyes through the fire and smoke between them. She was watching him seriously.

“You know what I want,” she said softly, and he closed his eyes in anguish. He knew.

“Because if I’m right, then whatever happens when I make my wish – whatever this does to me – you’ll bring everything back.”

The agonised laugh was ripped from him. “No pressure,” he choked.

“You trust me to know what I’m doing, even when it scares the hell out of me,” she told him in a voice of supernatural calm, even as the shadows flung themselves at the rising flames and burned with an unholy scream of rage and desperation. “Trust me now.”

He felt her reach out and tuck a fragile scrap of silk into his shirt, next to his heart.

“This is the invocation that will restart the world. Don’t lose it.”

He looked down at insignificant fragment with a sense of rising panic.

“I can’t do this! I can’t create a whole world!”

“You can,” she insisted. “You already have – I’ve seen your artwork.”

The darkness of Amatsu-Mikaboshi howled and battered its way through Suzaku’s fire, shredding like ash even as it forced itself through the barrier of flames towards them.

“I can’t fix this!” Marin spoke over the violent noise. “I can make the wish, but you’re the one who has to make it come true!”

Then she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hauled him closer, kissing him with a desperate ferocity that left him stunned.

“I promised I’d send you home,” she whispered, and stepped back out of reach.

Daisuke cried out, his voice raw with pain.

“My second wish is to destroy the Four Gods Sky and Earth, down to the last page and grain of sand,” she commanded, her voice stolen away and carried back to him on the burning wind that swept through the remains of the library.

And Daisuke cried out again as his eyes burned with a fierce fire that swept through him. He threw his head back, his arms spread wide.

Marin shielded her eyes against the light as Daisuke burned with bright fire. His shoulders rippled, and wings swept out, blazing with savage red feathers of fire in the darkness.

Suzaku opened His eyes, the signs of the fourth god etched in livid fire on His skin. He lifted His hand and crimson tongues licked at His fingers.

“Marin!”

His voice was both strange and familiar.

“Don’t do this!” Suzaku begged, even as He gave her everything He had.

Marin’s eyes held His.

And as the world caught fire around them, He heard her last wish.

“Go home and write the next chapter,” she commanded Him. “Write Amatsu-Mikaboshi subdued for all time and the world restored. Write our friends the chance to be happy. Write the Universe the way it should be.”

Through the gold and scarlet fire He could see her, dark smoke and white flame, as she turned. He felt the fire blaze into dangerous life within Him, responding to her even as He fought to hold it back, just a little. Just enough to save her.

No. _Don’t hurt her!_

“ _Kai_.”

Her hand lifted, her dark eyes meeting His through the crimson tide between them, and Amatsu-Mikaboshi screamed in fury.

“ _Jin!_ ”

Their fingertips touched.

Hands met, and the only sound she made was a small gasp as the gold and crimson fire swept through them. She looked up through the flickering motes of flame, her fingers tightening on His, even as He fought to pull free, and Marin smiled so luminously that it shone even in the inferno around them as the black void beat in futile desperation at the flames.

“No matter what happens, I’ll always love you,” she whispered, and then she was gone, a faint breath of smoke on the hot winds.

And the god Suzaku wept tears of fire.


	27. The Next Chapter

# The Next Chapter

My life, my love, my drive, it came from  
Pain!  
You made me a, you made me a believer

[Believer: Imagine Dragons]

For the sake of my beloved,

Now, what can I do?

There aren’t any dreams that won’t come true

I truly believe

[Itooshi Hito No Tame Ni: Fushigi Yuugi opening theme]

The god Suzaku opened his eyes on the blank white of his bedroom ceiling, and heard his mother’s indrawn breath as ash fell through the air like snow and caught on his face and clothes. The bed swayed dizzily under him, and he closed his eyes again, fingers splaying and digging into the quilt as if he were trying to stop himself from falling off.

“Daisuke?” His mother’s voice sounded as if it were coming from a long way away, choked and uncertain, and he heard the soft noise of her feet crushing charred scraps of the book into the carpet.

“Oh, Daisuke.”

Then he was in his mother’s arms, crying with great, gulping sobs that shook him apart. Miaka held him close.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know, my darling. I know.”

And he buried his face in her shoulder as he broke down.

Some time, a long time, later his mother tucked him into bed, bending over him with a kiss and a gentle hand to brush back his hair, but every time he closed his eyes he could see Marin in the darkness, her hand stretched out to him as she disappeared in a shower of sparks. The harder he had tried to reach out to save her, the faster Suzaku’s fire had consumed her.

The world had changed without her. Daisuke got out of bed the next morning when his mother called him. He put on his clothes, the jeans and tshirt feeling strange to him, and he mechanically ate whatever his mother put in front of him, but the warmth had gone out of the air and summer was fading into the chill of a dying season. As the nights grew longer, Daisuke found himself walking in the dark streets, unable to sleep for the nightmares. There was a hollowness behind everything, as if it were all a façade that he could push through if he reached out. The concrete wall beside him didn’t seem solid enough, and the yellow light that drifted over him was chalky and wrong. There was no wind, no rain, no warmth, he realised. There hadn’t been since he returned.

The days passed. At school, his classmates whispered, their glances sliding away from him when he walked past, and teachers left him sunk in his unresponsive abstraction. At least he wasn’t causing trouble.

He came and went, moving like a ghost through the house while his parents exchanged worried looks and silent conversations. When his mother spoke his name, he could hardly hear her through the empty roar in his own ears. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

From where Daisuke lay splayed on his bed, staring up at the bland white ceiling, he could sense his mother in the doorway of his room.

“Your homeroom teacher called again today. He’s worried about you.”

Daisuke said indifferently, “I’ve been going to school.”

“I’m worried about you, too. I think it’s time you started to keep the promise you made to Marin,” she said gently, but there was an implacable note in her voice. Daisuke sat up, and saw the sheaf of blank paper in her arms. “It’s time to write the next chapter.”

His mother dropped the stack onto his desk. There was a scrap of frayed and antique silk sitting on top of it marked with almost illegible characters and the darker, newer translation in Marin’s careful handwriting. Daisuke sucked in a stinging lungful of air at the sight. For a long time he stared at the empty pages and the shred of the Records.

“What if I can’t do it?” he asked her a little shakily, and looked up at her with all the raw desperation he felt painted on his face. “What if it doesn’t work?”

His mother put her arms around him, cuddling him close as she had when he was a child, and he felt her gently rocking him.

“If anyone can make miracles happen,” she whispered into his hair, “you can, my darling boy.”

She left eventually, and Daisuke pulled the paper towards him. His fingers trembled and steadied as he uncapped the pen, glanced at the silk piece that was all that was left of the Universe of the Four Gods, and inked the first, careful line of the incantation.

“ _The four palaces of the heavens. The four corners of the earth. I invoke them all and call them into being…”_ he breathed into the empty page and the black symbols that filled it, and he felt something spark under his fingertips.

He started to draw the story panels, feeling the pull of his art. He sketched in the wide sweep of the temple courtyard as he’d first seen it, and the stone steps rising up to the temple against a clear blue sky. When he slept that night he dreamed of sweeping over the mountains and rivers and the high walls of Rongyao on wings of fire.

Daisuke woke from his dreams in a sweat, and the days that followed were full of feverish creation. The world was rewriting itself under his hand. The wish had worked, he could feel it _. At least Marin didn’t give her life for nothing …_ He flinched away from that thought abruptly.

Images of the Seishi flowed from his pen. He drew them happy. Meixing he drew incandescent with joy in the middle of a field, her lap full of flowers, while Tian Zhen ruffled her hair fondly as he passed.

He was a little startled to find himself drawing Jing Yun, prosperous and smiling, not in the streets of Rongyao but leaning against the prow railing of a ship as he watched the dolphins leaping through the waves ahead. It felt right, though, when Zhu Yi came to stand beside Jing Yun, his inked features more relaxed and unguarded than Daisuke had ever seen the archer in all their travels as Jing Yun reached out a hand and they leaned into each other.

He drew a village rebuilt and populated, and Zhang Yong surrounded by his family, unshadowed by dreams of tengu and wishes.

The panel that made Daisuke grin, though, was the drawing of Zhao Zifeng’s sour expression as Xuelian firmly plucked the calligraphy brush from his hand and forced a cup of some concoction into it instead. Judging from Zifeng’s face, it tasted as nasty as it looked.

_“You’ve been sitting over the land reports all day,”_ Daisuke could almost hear Xuelian’s voice saying sternly. _“I need to go down into the town to take this tonic to Cao Guang’s family, and as your doctor, I’m ordering you to come with me. You need the fresh air and exercise before that frown sets between your brows permanently, and I…”_ Daisuke drew the soft hesitation, and the flurry of petals around her. _“I would like your company.”_

Daisuke drew Zhao Zifeng setting aside the paperwork that was his now, his lands and his people now that his father was gone. He drew Xuelian’s downcast eyes as she waited for him, but Zhao Zifeng’s smile as he glanced down at the doctor’s smooth head drew itself.

Dawn rose on Daisuke slumped over a growing pile of pages, his head buzzing with the story. In the bright light of day, Daisuke felt a strangeness to everything around him. For weeks, while he feverishly drew the Universe, he wandered through his school, barely seeing the other students pushing past him, and everywhere there was something just outside his line of sight, something just beyond the threshold of sound. When he reached out to push open the classroom door, he almost expected to feel the smooth, heavy wood of Zifeng’s gate under his hand. When he closed his eyes, leaning his head on his arms, he thought he could almost hear the market place in Rongyao behind the cheerful chaos of his maths class.

When Daisuke heard the thin cry of a new god’s birth echo between the worlds, though, it was clear in his ears and sharp as glass. Daisuke sat up with a jerk, and his chair clattered on the floor. The teacher looked around with a frown.

“So glad to see that you’re still with us, Mr Sukunami.”

Daisuke stared at the teacher blankly. In the panel he had been drawing, hidden by his maths textbook, it almost seemed that the dark-inked dragon writhed on the page, and in another world Daisuke felt Seiryuu as He opened His eyes for the first time and roared. Outside, there was a low rumble of thunder, and Daisuke turned to see rain running heavily down the glass of the window.

The rain seemed to have done strange things, washing the hollowness out of everything, and the things that he touched had substance now. He walked out of the school gates staring in something like wonder at the puddles forming on the roads. A group of kids ran past him, holding their schoolbags over their heads in a vain attempt to stay dry, splashing through the rain. Daisuke turned his face up, feeling the rain run over his face and soak into his coat. It was easing a little now as he walked.

That night, after the rain had passed, Daisuke looked out his window at a world washed clean and a sky full of blazing stars and constellations. Then he pulled out the stack of manuscript he’d filled with images and stories of Sky and Earth, and he turned the pages slowly until he reached a blank page. This had to work.

“Out of the ashes,” he murmured, and Daisuke picked up his favourite pencil to sketch in the first line of a new story with a shaking hand. Every stroke grew more confident as his heroine flamed into life on the page.

_The girl woke up in the library, brushing her dark, wayward hair back from her eyes as she looked around in confusion._

Daisuke inked in the words, _“What a strange dream…”_

_And the girl got to her feet, gathered her bag, and walked out into the night-time streets of Tokyo…_

In the brief moments, deep in the middle of the night when everything was absolutely still except the faint scratch of his pencil on the page, Daisuke could sense something new happening. The story he was writing unravelled back through the year behind him like a dropped scroll, and ran on into the future, quickening the pulse in Daisuke’s veins.

For weeks after he began her story he startled every time the doorbell rang, hoping against hope that it was her, and he kicked himself for not finding out where she lived. Time and again he found himself outside the gates of Midorikawa Academy. His hand trailed along the iron bars as he looked for her familiar face in the crowd of students flooding out of the gate. Several girls shot him sidelong glances as they passed, turning away to giggle and whisper, but he was unaware of how long he’d been standing there, staring, until one broke away from her friends to run up to him.

“Looking for someone, handsome?” she asked coquettishly, and he gave her an easy grin as he backed away.

“Not this time, darling.” He didn’t think he could bear to ask and find out that no one here had ever heard of Marin.

As he turned and walked away, he heard the girl call out, “Too bad!” He kept going.

That was the last time he let himself lurk around Midorikawa Academy. They would both be graduating soon and there was no more reason to look for her there. If it had worked, she didn’t remember or she would have come looking for him. If it hadn’t worked, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

In the pages, Marin took the entrance exams with highest honours (because of course she did) and was accepted into Tokyo University ( _Undergraduate arts and sciences, then post-grad in Chinese literature and mythological studies_ , she whispered to him, and that’s what he drew).

He drew the day she faced down her mother and told her that she had other plans for her own life as if he could see it.

She took up shorinji kempo, and Daisuke raised an eyebrow as he paused mid-stroke. _Really?_ He could swear he saw her illustration grin back at him, a glint in her eye. _You never know when it might come in handy_ , she told him.

It all spilled onto the page with an urgency that he could barely keep up with, and it felt like a conversation in his head. It felt like she was there, just out of sight, telling him all about it as he drew her, and _gods_ , how he wished that were true. He poured all of that longing into the artwork that filled up the pages, wanting badly to believe that it was really Marin he was hearing and not just his grieving imagination.

As he drew, he told her about his plans to spend the year ahead in study school and re-sit the entrance exams to the Tokyo University of the Arts. He’d done better than he’d expected in his highschool finals, and his art teacher had promised him a glowing reference if he could get his portfolio together, but a month or two of dedication didn’t make up for years of neglected study.

Sometimes he thought he caught glimpses of her in the places he’d drawn her, but never for certain, and somehow he couldn’t draw himself into her story. He tried, but those were the pages that felt lifeless under his pen, and ended up in crumpled balls thrown at the wall.

The day he drew the final panel, he sat at his desk, staring at it for a long moment. Finally, he drew an unsteady breath and gathered the papers together.

“Please let this work,” he breathed his own desperate wish. “Please bring her back.”

Now to wait and see what the future would write for him next.

~~~~~

“Oi, Sukunami!”

One of his friends rapped on the glass window of the tiny bookshop, waving at him, and Daisuke looked up from the art book he’d been skimming through and slid it carefully back onto its shelf. He slung his bag over his shoulder and scooped up his sketchbook and the newly bound volume he’d just picked up from the printers and headed out of the shop. Takeo punched Daisuke’s shoulder in a friendly way as the door tinkled shut behind him.

“Loved the latest instalment of the webcomic last night,” Takeo said, falling into step beside Daisuke. He nodded at the volume in Daisuke’s hand. “The Book of Sky and Earth - what’s that? Is that your new project? When do we get to read it?”

Daisuke shook his head with a wry grin. “This is something I need to return to the library.”

He hitched his bag higher and glanced down at the dark red book.

“And I’m going to be late if I don’t get going now,” he said. “Later.”

He was halfway across the wide plaza in front of the National Library when he saw a handful of guys he’d noticed there before, sidling around one girl after another with suggestive comments and raucous laughter when their targets picked up their pace and hurried away. Daisuke sighed, and strode towards them as they circled another girl.

As he drew closer he caught a glimpse of her flyaway dark hair and pale cheek as she turned away. The biggest punk had looped an arm around her waist, tugging her into him.

“No still means no,” the girl said, and Daisuke knew that voice. He was already breaking into a run when he saw the flash of a familiar blade in her hand. The guy yanked his arm from her waist with a stifled shout of fury.

“Ow! You bitch, you stabbed me!”

“Then you shouldn’t have put your hands where they don’t belong. I barely scratched you,” the girl said dismissively, but the four punks were squaring up around her now.

Daisuke could feel himself ignite in a blaze of strange excitement, and the heat felt like something he’d missed badly. It felt good.

His sketchbook and The Book of Sky and Earth scattered across the concrete like petals as they fell. He was on the closest punk before they’d even realised he was there, and the guy dropped in a quiet little heap of ragged coat. Daisuke could feel the marks of Suzaku blaze into life like livid tattoos under his skin. The heat spilled through him and he welcomed it. He was on the next, and the next. He gave a feral little grin.

When he looked around, one of them had taken off and there were two left groaning in the gutter. They would recover. Daisuke flexed his hand.

The one that the girl had dealt with left a trail of blood drops across the plaza, and there was no sign of him now. On the footsteps of the Library, the girl bent to pick up the book that had spilled open. Daisuke knelt quickly to grab his sketchbook, dusting it off with one hand.

She was staring at the open pages.

“Rongyao,” she breathed, as if it was something she was calling up from distant memory. She flipped feverishly through the pages, her voice growing more urgent. “I thought I’d just dreamed it. How do you know this place?”

“You could say thank you, sugar,” he managed to say as his heart constricted painfully. He couldn’t breathe. He suddenly couldn’t breathe as she looked up, eyes as dark as a storm cloud and familiar as his own heartbeat. A smoky drift of hair caught across her pale face.

“How… I… ” She took a deep breath, still clutching the book in her hands, and there was confusion, recognition, disbelief and growing wonder. “I know you. Have we met?”

Daisuke felt as if there were fireworks thundering through him in time with his heartbeat, raining sparks of fire down his veins.

Daisuke grinned at her, ignoring the fact that his hands were trembling.

“We have now.”

“… Daisuke?” she breathed, as if she was testing his name, and his grin grew brighter, fiercer than the sun, hotter than summer. He felt like he could have lit the sky with the joy raging through him.

The incredulous, dawning smile that answered in Marin’s eyes was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen

And a new chapter began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a labour of love for a while now. If you enjoyed Stars and Fire I'd be very grateful if you let me know. And thank you for reading.


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